


Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe

by DarkPhoenixGoddess10



Series: Anne and Richard: Inspired by Fairy Tales [7]
Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Dating, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Healing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPhoenixGoddess10/pseuds/DarkPhoenixGoddess10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard York, a journalist, met a pretty brunette at a cafe.</p><p>She turned out to be his brother George's potential sister-in-law, Anne Neville.</p><p>Pretty, outgoing, but one strange thing: none of her boyfriends/dates survived their first Wednesdays...</p><p>Inspired by "One Thousand and One Night".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Richard Met Anne

Starbucks at noon time could not be more bad timing. Richard’s article was due and he needed to edit it one last time. His laptop’s battery was running low and thus needed an available plug-in. However, there was only one empty seat. Wordlessly, Richard ran to that free spot before any younger teenager or college student could take it. He checked his battery level again: only 32%. This is bad, he thought.

The person sitting across from him, he or she, was also using a HP laptop; and she was using a charger. Having no other choice, he secretly pulled out that charger and plugged it into his. It worked!

Richard opened his rough draft and started editing.

It wasn’t long before the person sitting across from him realized that his or her computer’s battery was not filling. That person pulled down the laptop screen, revealing her face.

A young brunette with friendly blue eyes.

She then looked at the charger and smirked. “You could’ve asked me,” she said.

It took Richard a few moments to realize that she was looking at him. He immediately saved his work and then apologized, “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m running behind schedule and…my computer is dying.”

She didn’t seem to be mad. Au contraire, she laughed and pulled out her extra charger.

“Always carrying a back-up!” She said with a smile.

Richard smiled back and went back to his work. However, he could not focus. Constantly, he shifted his attention to that girl. She was clicking her mouse; searching something in her purse; coughing into the napkin.

“I’m getting myself a cappuccino, would you like one?” She offered.

“No, I’m good,” he replied. “Although, I don’t mind a muffin. Would you like one too?”

“Sure,” she nodded.

They both got up and waited in the line. She bought a medium cappuccino; and he grabbed two muffins.

They went back to their work; a couple of hours later, they were done.

Richard was surprised that they unplugged their computer at the same time. He returned her charger and thanked her.

“So…” He tried to start a conversation. She was a pretty girl with friendly personality; he liked her.

“Well?” She tilted her head.

“I’m Richard, Richard York,” he leant out his hand.

“Anne Neville,” she shook his with a playful professional tone.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m heading to work and it’d be a few blocks down. Want to walk with me, if that is convenient for you?”

“That’d be nice,” she replied, gathering her stuff together.

***

The two chatted on their way to their destination.

“What do you do Anne?” He asked.

“I’m a research assistant at Middleham University’s History Department,” she said. “You?”

“I’m a journalist.”

“No wonder you ask questions,” she joked.

“What kind of history do you study?”

“Medieval European History—my favorite,” she said. “By the way…”

“What?”

“Your name is Richard and my name is Anne…it’s kind of odd.”

“How so?”

She stopped and then continued, “There had been quite a few Medieval couples named Richard and Anne.”

“Oh really? Name one.”

“Richard II and Anne of Bohemia.”

“Don’t know who they are. Name another couple.”

“Richard, Lord of Warwick and Anne Beauchamp.”

“Don’t know them either.”

“Richard III and Anne of Warwick.”

“Sounds slightly familiar,” Richard said. “So these couples, did they have a happy life together?”

“No,” she replied, much to Richard’s disappointment. “Anne of Bohemia died on Richard II, who was later assassinated; Lord of Warwick died on Anne Beauchamp who died in obscurity and all alone. Her life was sad because her husband and two daughters all died before her. Anne of Warwick died from TB soon after she lost her only son; and Richard III died in battlefield soon after.”

“In other words, we—“

“There is no ‘we’,” Anne corrected him, but her tone was still friendly and outgoing. “I’m just saying it’s an interesting coincidence. Richard, tell me, what aspired you to become a journalist?”

The two continued their conversation. For Richard, it was like chasing a butterfly. Anne was a talker, but her conversations were a bit unfocused. She just said things that came to her mind. Still, Richard liked her and would like to know more about her.

“Oh, that’s my building!” She pointed at her office building. “It was nice talking to you, Richard.”

“Mind if I have your number?” He asked.

“No,” she said, to Richard’s surprise. “If we were destined to meet again, we don’t need phones to connect us.”

“Are you on Facebook?”

“Yeah, but you can’t find me.”

“LinkedIn?”

“Nope, I don’t use it,” she gave him a smile. “Let destiny take its rein. We shall meet again, if it is to be.”

With that said, she turned and ran into the building.

***

At work, Richard searched for Anne Neville. As a journalist, his curiosity was beyond control. It wasn’t hard for Anne Neville had a profile under Middleham University’s History Department. From that, he got her work email address.

But that’d be too awkward.

A romantic pursue using a work email address – it’d be like harassment.

As he continued to his search on Anne, his brother George texted him. “Party at my place tonight!”

Richard texted back, “Got it!”

Richard had two older brothers, Ed and George. In terms of profession, Richard took a different route from his family. Their father was a surgeon; Ed York was a cardiologist; George York was a nurse practitioner; and Richard was not even in medical field. Yet, for a man being a journalist sounded better than being a nurse.

George York earned the nickname “George Focker”, based on Ben Stiller’s character Greg Focker.

After work, Richard went to George’s apartment. There he met George’s new girlfriend, Isabel, a school teacher.

Richard’s own pals Francis Lovell and Rob Percy were there too.

“You wouldn’t mind if I invite my sister here, would you?” Isabel asked George.

“No, I certainly don’t. Invite the entire town if you like to,” George joked.

Isabel went to make her call.

Soon there was a knock on the door, but Richard hardly paid attention. He went to speak with his friends.

“Hey, you are not going to believe this, but I met this girl at Starbuck, and she’s the first girl in my life who ever refused to give me her number,” Richard told them.

“Man, that’s a record-breaking event,” Rob pointed out. With his good looks, especially the killer eyes, who could’ve refused this man? Usually, it was Richard the one who refused to give out his number.

“What is this girl like?” Francis asked.

“She’s—“

“Hey, I like you to meet my sister,” Isabel said, dragging a brunette next to her. “Anne, this is George’s brother. He’s a—“

“Journalist,” Anne smiled with a nod. “We’ve met.”

“And you met my boyfriend George, right?” Isabel continued with the introduction.

“Yes,” Anne shook hand with George. “So George, what do you do?”

“I’m a nurse,” he replied.

“Like Greg Focker from _Meet the Fockers_?”

“No, he’s an RN; I’m a NP, which requires a doctorate.”

“Then why not be a doctor?” Anne asked. “Well, technically you are a doctor as a scholar doctor, not medical doctor. So how are you going to introduce yourself to patients? ‘Hi, I’m Dr. George York but I’m a nurse’?”

“Anne,” Isabel rebuked. “Be nice.”

“I am,” Anne said.

Richard cleared his throat and gave her a look. Anne took the hint and went to another corner with him.

“By the rein of destiny, we meet again,” he teased.

“I guess,” Anne replied. “Richard and Anne…interesting since my current project is on Richard III and his Queen Anne.”

Richard laughed. “How is your research going?”

“Hard,” she said with a sigh. “There are so many things I want to know, but nothing is out there. There are very few biographies on Queen Anne and more on Richard III. But…they are so biased while saying the same thing. It’s like reorganizing the same puzzle pieces and results always come out the same.”

“Then just report the truth that you found,” he advised. “As historian, you can’t afford to make up things.”

“Tell me about it,” she shook her head. “The Professor I work for, she is a piece of work. She used me as her teaching assistant as well because her teaching assistant quit on her. She led her class discussion based on historical fictions, as if they were historical facts. And as results, students actually believe that Richard III slept with his niece.”

“That’s insane!” Richard’s eyes widened. “Are you sure the class is a history class, not fiction-writing class?”

“I’m serious,” Anne rolled her eyes. “I wish I was in the wrong class.”

***

The party was over and Richard took Anne home.

“What do you know about Richard III and his Queen?” He asked as he drove.

“Well, they were married for more than ten years. It was his only marriage but her second. They had one child who died at age ten. Richard III did have two bastard children.”

“Before or after their marriage?”

“Don’t know,” Anne shrugged. “Oh there’s my apartment complex.”

Before she could get out of the car, Richard asked her again, “You still don’t want to give me your number?”

“You don’t need it,” she said, a little suggestively. “This apartment complex has a place for guest parking.”

Richard laughed at that.

***

The next morning, Richard woke up alone at Anne’s place.

Next to him he found a piece of paper on the pillow: 210-456-1485.

It was her number.

Beneath it, she wrote, “Please don’t piss at my place. Donkin Donuts is right around the corner if you need to eat.”

Richard shook his head.

She was one interesting girl indeed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case if you are not familiar with "One Thousand and One Night", here's the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Thousand_and_One_Nights
> 
> In this fic, George York is a nurse practitioner. Now in US, this profession requires a doctorate degree in nursing.
> 
> PS I love Richard x Anne. I still makes fun of PG slightly in this fic, but not as much as my previous one!


	2. Cheesecakes and Movies

He knew where she worked and her office hours since it was all posted on the Middleham University’s website.

He got her number now and had texted her, but got no response.

As a journalist, Richard was a well-trained investigator and a spy at times when needed. Patiently, he waited near her office building and watched until she walked out. Carrying a bakery box in one arm and her purse in another, she could’ve use some help. Thus it was the perfect moment to show himself—when a girl is in need.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Oh hi,” she greeted back, a little uncomfortable. “You just happened to pass by?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, not too convincingly. “You need some help?”

“Sure,” she handed him that bakery box. “My co-workers and students are having cupcakes today. These are leftovers, and they insist that I take them because I’m thin.”

“That is the truth,” Richard teased her.

“Not really,” Anne said. “I’m working out every day, trying to lose weight. I’m not Mischa Barton.”

“Whoa, you do not want to be Mischa Barton,” Richard said. “You are way prettier than she is.”

“I know!” She laughed. “Anyway, do you like cupcakes? It’d be a big, big favor for me if you can take them.”

“You don’t like cupcakes?”

“No,” she shook her head. “These are not well-made anyway. I mean, I like deserts every once a while…but only the good ones.”

“You know what,” Richard suggested. “Why don’t we throw these away and I can take you to a place where you can have the best cakes?” With that said, he dumped the bakery box into the nearby garbage can. He took a peek at these cupcakes and they were indeed terrible.

“Where?”

“There is a new Cheesecake Factory opened nearby,” he told her. “My car is not parked too far away. Would you be interested?”

Anne smiled. “I guess I can use sugars once a while.”

***

In a table for two, Richard and Anne ordered two slices of strawberry cheesecakes and two coffees.

“I really need to stop drinking coffee,” Anne said as she ate her cake. “It’s not healthy, but it saves my career.”

“Same goes for me,” Richard said. “Without coffee, this whole world comes to end.”

“Hey, blame Christopher Columbus,” Anne joked. “Coffee may be invented by Indians, but it was Europeans who made them international business and sensation. I bet Richard III did not drink coffee before the Battle of Bosworth.”

“Battle of Bosworth?” Richard raised an eyebrow.

Anne seemed a little disappointed that he didn’t understand what she meant, but she dismissed it and changed the subject. “Last night, did you have a good time?”

“I did,” he laughed. “Which is why I’m happy to see you again.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I hope you are not too disappointed that I did not allow you to go all the way. I mean, I just met you…and I’m not too comfortable to…you know…”

Apparently, she was not too comfortable to say the word “sex”.

“It’s fine,” he assured her.

“And were you okay in the morning?” She asked. “You found Dunkin Donuts?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Usually it’s just me living at my place,” she explained. “I’m not used to clean up after guys, you know. I don’t want my toilet seats stained with urine.”

Maybe she was too blunt.

“This cake is good,” she said. “Thanks for taking me here.”

“You have any plan tonight?” He asked, much to her surprise. After all the things she said and done, she had anticipated he’d not want to see her again.

“No,” she replied. “What do you have in mind?”

“How about a dinner and a movie?”

***

The two walked out hand-in-hand out of the movie theater.

Richard had gentlemanly asked Anne to pick the film, risking his chance to watch a cheesy girl film. Unexpectedly, it took her almost two hours. That evening the movie theater was playing a combination of newly released films and some old films. For the old films, she already saw a handful of them. And those she didn’t see, she used her phone to log into IMDB to check its ratings from the critics. If the score were lower than 6/10 stars, she’d pass. Then, it was the film genre. Historical films were out because she tend to storm out the theater after seeing three historical inaccuracies; animated films were out too since she found productions focused too much on 3D rather than on its plots; as for comedy, she ruled out any film featuring Rob Schneider, Adam Sandler, or Tyler Perry. As for the new films, it was the actors and/or producers. “30 Years a Slave” was a no-no since Brad Pitt is the producer and she hated what he did to Jennifer Aniston; “The Wolf on Wall Street” was passed on because she was sick and tired to see Leonardo DiCaprio collaborating with Martin Scorsese; “Labor Day” was on her nerve because she did not want to see another Oscar potential for Kate Winslet, who was already nominated for a Golden Globe for that role. Finally, she settled on “The Hobbit”.

Ed would’ve laughed at him after hearing all this. “I’d stay far away from this girl if I were you,” he’d tell him.

The two left the theater after the movie.

“I like Cate Blanchett,” Anne said. “She’s wonderful, a brilliant actress. And she is the perfect Queen Elizabeth I.”

“Oh yeah?” Again, Richard had no idea what she was talking about.

“She totally nailed the role,” Anne continued. “Glenda Jackson is no comparison, neither is Helen Mirren or Anne-Marie Duff.”

“Cate Blanchett is good,” Richard commented. “I saw her in _The Note on a Scandal_.”

“I know, I love that film,” Anne agreed. “Amazing, isn’t it? In one film she is a strong woman, but then in _The Note on a Scandal_ , she was weak, vulnerable, and real!”

She paused for a second. “Are you hungry? If you don’t mind, we can grab something.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“My apartment complex has a very cool fountain,” she told him. “You want to see it?”

“I think it’d be nice.”

Richard drove her home, again for the second time. He parked in the guest lot.

“Come, I’ll show you!” She shouted in excitement as she got out of the car. Taking Richard’s hand, she ran towards the front gate of the apartment complex. Last night, Richard did not drive through the front gate so he didn’t see it.

It was a large fountain that made the apartment complex more like a European palace. “We have 365 apartments in this complex, so it’s like you can live in a different each day of the year…if you own this entire complex that is.” She turned to Richard. “You have a coin?”

“Yeah,” he reached his pocket and gave her a penny. Anne closed her eyes and threw one into the fountain pool.

“Oh wait!” she cried out. “I made the wrong wish!”

With that said, she jumped into the fountain the midst of the springing waters, searching for that penny.

“Anne, get back here before you catch a cold!” Richard laughed, finding her rather adorable. And sexy when she was wet.

“Come help me then!” She waved at him.

Richard was relieved that he left his suit jacket in the car. Releasing his tie, he jumped into the fountain after her. Instantly, Anne splashed water into his face. The two ran around the springing waters, splashing each other. That penny was long forgotten. They continued playing until the fountain was completely turned off.

Both of them were soaked.

“Well I guess—“

Before she could finish, Richard pulled her into a passionate kiss. Anne rested her head against his chest after she pulled away for air.

“You want to stay for the night?” She asked.

“Do you have a dryer at your place?”

***

Richard gently kissed her on her bare shoulder as she changed the channel.

After a long hot shower and with his clothes in her dryer, Richard joined Anne in her bed. As she flipped through the channel, she groaned, “Oh my God! That show again!”

“What show?” Richard asked.

“Don’t even start with me,” Anne said not too happily. “The professor I work for, she’s besotted by this show. I mean…historical inaccuracies. Thank goodness the York brothers are long dead. I guarantee you if they’d see this show, they file a gigantic lawsuit!”

Richard kissed her on the neck as she turned the TV off.

The room was not too dark with the moonlights.

“You want to hear an interesting ménage-a-trois in history?” She asked as Richard caressed her bareback with his lips.

“All ears.”

“Well, it was a French king, Henri II. He had a wife, Catherine de Medici; and a lover, Diane de Poitiers who used to be his nanny. Diane was old enough to be his mother, even by today’s standard. But Catherine was his wife and they had no kid for a long while. It was a problem. Henri could’ve divorce Catherine and he’d probably thought about it. But guess who said nay?”

“Hmm…Diane?”

“Good guess! Diane would not want a new prettier princess stealing her king’s heart. So she decided to act as the sex master and couple therapist for Henri and Catherine.”

“What did she do for them?” Richard became interested.

“It was set up like this: two floors and two bedrooms—one on each floor. Diane is on floor one and Catherine is on floor two. Henri went to Diane first to make love just to get him in the mood. After he was in the mood, he went upstairs to have sex with Catherine, in doggy style. It worked better for the two of them given that Catherine’s uterus was inverted and Henri did not find Catherine’s face too pretty. And it worked! Catherine was pregnant and she ended up pregnant for ten times!” Anne paused and laughed. “What Henri did not know was that Catherine hired an Italian carpenter to drill a hole on her floor so she can watch as Henri made love to Diane. She wanted to learn how to become a better lover. Humph…a waste of time…the real formula for hottest sex is love…and she knew instantly that Henri didn’t care for her.”

“What happened afterwards?” Richard asked.

“She had twins in her last pregnancy…it was a difficult delivery and physicians advised no more pregnancy. So Henri sort of abandoned her and devoted all his sexual activities to Diane. Catherine waited patiently until her husband’s death. After her husband was gone, she kicked Diane out!”

Richard stroked her body as she told the story. After she finished, he pulled her into a kiss and then pushed her down on her back. Anne did not resist; she embraced his passions. She closed her eyes as Richard made love to her, gently touching his back. A moment later, she lied on her side with Richard nuzzling her neck and rubbing her belly. His legs were tightly around hers. In a way, he was like a predator devouring his prey.

“You are holding me so tight, like a beast!” Anne teased him.

“Hmm…that’s because you are like a deer,” he murmured against her skin.

“A deer?”

“Exactly…I can see you running out of my arms and disappear into the night...”

“You are half right,” Anne said as turned to lie down on her back with Richard rolled on top of her. “I do run away from men, a lot. Once I’m gone, the deer is gone.”

“Well you are not running away from me,” he challenged her. “You are mine.”

“For tonight, yes,” she said. “But I can’t say for tomorrow.”

“You like to play hard to get, do you?”

“You are a mind-reader,” she said as Richard leaned down to kiss her. “No, I don’t like to play love-games; I call them wicked games. The truth is…good things don’t always happen to me. I really like you, Richard. And you are terrific in bed…but something tells me that it’s not going to happen…at least not for long…”

“Why are you saying that?” Suddenly she sounded so pessimistic!

“Because Richard and Anne…these two names don’t go well together,” she explained. “It’s like if a Richard and an Anne go out together, tragedy will hit sooner or later. Anne will die in bed while Richard will die in a violent death.”

“Yeah but that is hundred years ago,” Richard said. “This is now. This Richard is enjoying his time with this Anne.” He paused for a second and then suggested, “Why don’t we make plan for tomorrow and enjoy more time together?”

Anne swallowed a yawn. “There’s going to be a carnival tomorrow at Middleham University, want to join me?”

“I’d love that!”

***

The next day, George sent Richard a text, asking if he could look after his cat Moses for a day. Richard texted back no, saying that he’d made plans with Anne.

Five seconds after he sent the text, his phone rang. “Hey Richard, out of curiosity, you and Anne…are you together together?”

“That’s none of your business for one,” Richard replied. “And two, please stop talking like you’re in high school.”

“To the point, little bro,” George said in a rather serious tone. “If you are serious with her, then we got a problem.”

“George, I’m not Ed.”

“I’m not concerning about Anne, I’m concerning for myself and my potential marriage!”

“How nice of you!”

“That’s not what I mean!” George sounded frustrated. “This girl…Anne Neville what do you know about her?”

After a moment, Richard told him, “She is not a criminal I can tell you that.”

“If she is only a criminal I wouldn’t even be that worried,” George said.

“George, get to the point!”

“If you are serious with her, soon there will be a problem. You will get depression; she will get depression; Isabel will get depression; and I will get depression.”

“The more you talk the weirder you sound!”

“Come to place for dinner and I’ll fill you in.”

Richard hung up bewildered. _What got into George?_

“Who was that?” A voice suddenly said behind him. Richard jerked and turned. Standing before him, Anne was holding a huge kitchen knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please!


	3. Let me tell you about Anne and Wednesdays

Red was everywhere.

It was all over the counter and all over the kitchen floor, with some on the refrigerator too.

And it was on her hands as well, but the deepest red was on his shirt.

Kneeling on the floor, Anne tried to clean up the mess by with paper towels and a washcloth. However, the harder she tried the messier it became.

“Do you need any help?” Richard asked.

“No, I got it,” Anne replied as she continued to clean the floor. “I told you, I’m completely retarded in cooking.”

“Only if you had listened to me,” Richard teased. “I told you not to push that button, but you ignored my advice and chose to do so. Now thanks to your own stubbornness, we have tomatoes all over your kitchen.”

“ _I_ have tomatoes all over my kitchen,” she corrected him. “Not _we_.”

After Richard got off the phone with George, Anne invited him to stay and cook using the new kitchen set she purchased not too long ago. Most of the set was still unpacked. Honestly, she had zero clue on how to use 95% of these kitchen items. Richard offered to teach her. So, for her first cooking lesson, it was spaghetti with meatballs.

It did not work out well.

Anne insisted on following the recipe step by step; and she read the cookware’s instruction line by line. In Richard’s words, she was making it rocket science.

In the end, there was no cuisine but a mess.

“Oh boy,” she muttered to herself. “My mother is so going to be pissed if she sees this. Actually, I do want to piss her off.”

With that said, she took out her IPhone, snapped a picture, and texted it to her mother.

“Is she a clean-freak?” Richard asked.

“No, but she really wants me to learn and master all these out-dated-behind-the-time homemaking skills,” she said. “Isabel was the total replica of my mother, which is why she ended up being an elementary school teacher. Kids, food, caring, household management…all these things get on my nerve.” Then she laughed at herself. “When I moved into this place, all the cookware I had was a pot and a bowl. Not too long ago I saw that there was a sale—a collection of all types of cookware, one package for $100. And here it is. So far I only used three pieces of the entire collection.”

She put the phone back on the counter, and then unbeknownst to her, she stepped on a tomato and slipped. In a moment of panic, she grabbed Richard. The two ended up flipping on the floor together. Tomatoes were all over them in an even messier way.

But they had a good laugh.

Anne dipped her finger in some tomatoes and tipped it on Richard’s nose. In response, Richard gave her a full kiss.

It was fun.

The two then threw their clothes in Anne’s washer. Since they were without clothes, they decided to use that moment for something useful.

Bed.

The night before Anne seemed a little hesitant, but not today. It seemed that now she was more open to Richard and she had embraced his affection. When she heard the dryer’s alarm, she was rather annoyed.

“What time is it?” She asked him.

“About 11,” he replied. “Are we supposed to go to the carnival?”

“I was planning to,” Anne said. “But, I am enjoying my time with you here and now. Plus, we have to clean up the kitchen.”

Now she was using _we_ instead of _I_.

By the time Richard helped her cleaned up the kitchen, it was three in the afternoon. George called him again, saying that he has something urgent to talk to him about—in person.

“I have to go,” he said. “It’s George.”

“You mean Dr. George York,” Anne joked.

“Hey, be nice,” Richard warned. “He may eventually be your brother-in-law, which makes us in-laws of in-laws.”

“What are you saying?” Anne raised an eyebrow. “That we may need a papal dispensation the next time we have sex?”

Richard said nothing. Again, he had no clue what she was talking about.

“By the way,” she changed the subject. “These cooking stuffs, I don’t know if I ever going to use them. As a favor, can you take some of them?”

***

Richard met up with George at a restaurant near the research institute where he worked part time. He practices medicine full time and participate in research in psychiatry part time.

“Look, little brother,” George looked all serious. “I’m telling you now: you have absolutely no idea what a psychopath you got involved with.”

“You mean Anne?” Richard was in disbelief. “George, I know you have…a doctorate in nursing and a PhD in psychology, but I would really appreciate it if you can stop judging my dates clinically. I’m telling you now, I can see that one day she becomes your sister-in-law.”

That was the honest truth from his heart. Two nights of intimacy and three days of laughs and fun, he was not going to let her go any time soon.

“I object!” George said loudly.

“George, we are not at the altar yet,” Richard was embarrassed, at little at least. “What do you know about Anne?”

“You are a journalist,” George kicked the ball back to him. “If you were to write an article about her, what would you say?”

“I’d say that she studies history, specialized in European medieval history; she lives alone and she hates cooking; she likes cheesecake; she’s a little picky when it comes to film and television; she’s pretty and every once a while, she says something I completely do not understand.”

“Bingo!” George pointed at him. “Saying things that normal people can’t understand—typical trait of a crazy person.”

“George, stop.” Richard was not happy. “I really like Anne. Despite she’s a little different at times, I am very sure she is a normal person.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Three days,” Richard replied. “How long have you known her?”

“Hardly a day, _but_ ,” George leaned closer. “I have known people who know her for years.”

“That’s all hearsay,” Richard dismissed.

George nervously took out his phone to check time. “Look, little brother, it’s 5PM now. We have three more hours!”

“Now I think you are mentally ill.”

“Isabel asked me about your relationship status with Anne,” George laid out his cards. “She is very worried. This Anne Neville kills at 8PM on the very first Wednesday with the guy she gets serious with. Do you understand me?”

“Anne is not a killer!” Richard could’ve laughed. “Are you saying that she’s a black widow?”

“No,” George shook his head. “Kill is a metaphor for break up. She meets a guy and hits a homerun with him; she becomes serious with him; and then on the very first Wednesday of them being together, she breaks up with the guy at 8PM exactly.”

“What?” Richard reacted as if George was writing a TV drama. “Eastern central time or Pacific time?”

“Isabel told me all of it,” George insisted. “One of her former flame actually works with me at the research institution. He and Isabel don’t talk, but they told me the exact same thing—word to word! Anne Neville will come to your place, with a break up box and deliver a long speech that no one can understand. Now it is 5:20PM, which means that you have 2 hours and—“

“40 minutes,” Richard finished his sentence. “Come on George. Anne is not a crazy person. If I met a crazy person, I’d know. Plus, the worst case scenario, we don’t see each other again and move on.”

“Out of question!” George’s face was red. “I am very happy with Isabel and I am preparing the moment of my marriage proposal! According to her, their parents were not comfortable that Anne came down here living on her own. Each time that Wednesday happens, Anne will leave town and disappear into somewhere in this country without telling anyone. Last time it happened, her parents called FBI and found her in the middle of Colorado! If it were to happen now, Isabel will go crazy and breaks up with me! Richard, dearest brother, do me a favor! Break up with her now, amicably, before she breaks up with you. You have,” he checked time again. “2 hours and 10 minutes!”

“Look George!” Richard abruptly stood. “I’m not going to listen to this anymore. I’m not going to break up with someone I like just because a he-says-she-says myth! If you worry so much that Isabel will leave you merely because her little sister breaks up with a guy, then I’d suggest you meet someone else! Now, excuse me, I have other plans tonight.”

Richard left the restaurant.

“Hey bro! We’re supposed to split the check!” George cried out after him.

***

On his way to his car, he ran into a guy.

He asked, “Hey, I think I saw you at the cheesecake factory with Anne Neville, right?”

“Yeah,” Richard felt a little uneasy.

“One hour and 48 minutes,” he muttered. “You don’t work at night do you? The last time she dumped me, she came to my lab and broke up with me in front of my mentor and lab partners.”

“With a box—“

“—And a speech.”He paused and then said, “Believe me, she knows where to find you.”

Now Richard felt freaky.

He went straight home that night.

From time to time he looked at his phone.

He never brought Anne to his place, nor did he give her his address. Suppose she wanted to break up with him, how’d she do that if she does not know where he lives?

Curious, he decided to turn off his phone and all his online chatting. Watching the time, he waited to see what happened next.

He really liked Anne.

Their first encounter was almost fated.

And they bore the name Richard and Anne…like Kings and Queens of England.

At times, she was a little out of line…but breakup with a box and a speech and then running away?

Come on!

And 3…2…1…it was 8 PM.

Instantly he heard a knock on his door. His heart skipped a beat.

Could it really be Anne? Richard never told her where he lives and his address was not available on White Page…

The knocks continued, even harder.

Now his heart was pounding.

He went to the door and peeked into the hole. To his shock, it was the face of Anne Neville.

Now it seemed that George does tell the truth, every once a gazillion minutes.

He uneasily opened the door. Before him stood Anne, carrying a cardboard box. She looked a little downbeat.

“Anne?” Richard asked, try to sound as normal as possible. “How did you find my place?”

“I have to talk to you,” she said evenly. “I have to find you…a colleague of mine dates a brother of your colleague, who told me that you live in this building. The maintenance guy told me your apartment number and let me in.” She gave him a smile.

Richard was speechless.

“Are you going to let me in or are you going to let me continue standing in this cold, dark hallway?” She asked sarcastically.

Not wanting his neighbors to see this, Richard somewhat reluctantly allowed her inside. He kept his phone in his pocket—good.

What the hell? He was a guy, for god’s sake! How could he be afraid of a slender woman?

Well, George did say she was a psychopath. And he had a PhD in psychology.

She put the box on his dining table and began to speak, “Ever since the beginning of the time, there was this tension between gods and humans. Gods cannot stand humans to be smart and happy. So, to punish humans due to their jealously, they took humans and split them into two.”

Anne picked up a banana and broke it into two.

“Okay,” Richard said. “Very interesting, I heard something like that before.”

He took a step back.

“The two pieces became a man and a woman,” Anne continued as she demonstrated the scene with the bananas. “The man and the woman are separated, far, far away from each other. But no avail, because what is meant to be is meant to be. The man and the woman try to find each other. There is no mountain too high, no river too wide. But gods are just so powerful! They are hateful too! They cannot stand to see soulmates reunited as one. So…they casted curses.”

She said it all matter-of-factly; she was not excited at all, which made it even more strange.

“Anne,” Richard tried to keep a straight-face. “I’m enjoying your story and demo here, but—“

“Some people are cursed to never have a happy ending.” Anne ignored him and continued on. “Like me for instance…a girl born on a Wednesday and cursed to grieve...one guy comes along, and he died in a plane crash…another one comes along…and he died in a car crash…another comes along…and he choked on a burger…all on a Wednesday night after the clock strikes eight.”

While saying that she started smash the bananas against the dining table.

“And thus, I’m here to tell you that we’re never to see each other again.”

She presented her box to Richard and started to take things out. “This is the movie ticket you bought me; this is the receipt of our cheesecake; this is the leaf of the tomato we made this morning; this is the towel you used at my place with your DNA on it; this is the penny you loaned me to make a wish at the fountain.”

Lastly she pulled out a sealed plastic bag. “And these are your hairs that left on my pillows in the past two days.”

She paused for a second. “Well, I guess this is it, and I mean…what has been yours is now back into your possession. You will never see me again. You will not hear from me…don’t pay attention to what you see in the news. I will be alright. If the police came to your door and asked for me, just tell them the truth. I really don’t mind if you tell them about the pimples on by back or the color of my pubic hair.”

She turned and said nonchalantly, “Goodbye Richard.”

So this was it.

Anne was going to leave him, to which he now would not mind.

But George…him and Isabel…

Anne would highly likely to disappear…

Isabel would call the police and point blame finger at Richard…

The police would definitely call him down for questioning…

…and this would not look good for his image since he was in the midst of competition for a promotion…

His supervisor was the head editor of the news column…

In the end, either he’d look like a murder-kidnap suspect or a person who’s not fit to be a journalist…

No, it could not happen.

His plan: make her stay for tonight, somehow and leave her tomorrow (which would be Thursday)!

But how?

Before she could leave, Richard suddenly cried out behind her. “There is a discovery of recorded sex lives of Richard III and Queen Anne!”

Anne stopped and stood a few feet away from Richard’s door. A few minutes later, she turned around. “What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you see how this fic parallels with "One Thousand and One Night".
> 
> In the next few chapters, smuts will ensue!
> 
> Comments please!


	4. Sex, Lies, and Richard III

“Someone has discovered the recorded sex lives of Richard III and his Queen Anne,” Richard repeated himself.

That definitely got to her, for Anne stood at the same spot for at least five minutes. Then she looked at Richard, and asked, “What is it?”

“I just told you,” Richard tried to laugh.

“I mean, is it by a chronicler? A memoire by a lady-in-waiting? Letters written by ambassadors?”

Richard was clueless on how to respond to that. But Anne was looking at him like a predator—as if she would not let it go unless he tells her.

“It’s…it’s a top secret right now,” he said with a little stuttering. “I am not allowed to reveal the details.”

Anne rubbed her chin and then scratched her head. Taking this opportunity, Richard took her break-up box and slid it under the dining table.

Apparently, Anne completely threw the “Wednesday break up” to the back of her head.

“So who discovered it? Where?”

“In England,” Richard replied. Boy, that was an easy question. Why, could it be in United States?

“Where in England?”

“I cannot tell you,” Richard said. “You see, this discovery is a top secret. I am a journalist and by chance, I walked into it under the promise to not reveal anything, at least nothing specific. Once the historians confirm its authenticity, I will do an article on this great historical discovery!”

“And will it be on History Channel?” Anne became excited.

“That I don’t know,” Richard replied.

Anne sat down and held her head between her hands. “Have you seen it?”

“Yes,” Richard said.

“When was the last time you went to England?” Anne questioned. “You never told me that.”

“Well, we only know each other for three days, and my trip to England is due to work. I don’t share my work information with a girl I know for such a short—“

“But you know my inside and my outside,” Anne pointed out. “That’s something that only you and my mother know.”

“Really?” Richard almost snarled. “You were certainly not a virgin when we first have sex.”

“True, but…the last time I had sex was quite some time ago…I think he probably forgot my pubic hair color and the shape of my vulv—“

“Okay,” Richard stopped her before she could continue. “But I’m telling you this now, aren’t I?”

“Hmmm,” Anne sank into her thoughts. “Since you already shared so much, why don’t you tell me the content of Richard III’s sex life?”

“I can’t,” Richard repeated again. “Under contract, I am not allowed to reveal anything of the content verbally or in writing.”

“Ah…” Anne got up and turned to leave. “I guess…”

“Wait!” Richard took her arm and stopped her from leaving. No, he could not allow her to walk out of his apartment tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning, but not on a Wednesday night.

“What?” Anne looked rather confused.

“I cannot tell you anything regarding to the content, however nothing in the contract said that I can’t show you by demonstration,” Richard said to her.

“In other words,” Anne looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Why don’t you stay for the night…and by role play and demonstration, I can show you what Richard III and his Queen did on the first night they had sex.”

Anne was silent for a moment, obviously thinking. Then she spoke, “Fine then, let’s do a role-play. You’ll be Richard Duke of Gloucester and I will be Lady Anne of Warwick.”

That made Richard a little confused. Not knowing English history, he did not picture Richard of Gloucester as the same man as Richard III. But for the best, he decided not to comment.

***

Anne skipped into Richard’s bedroom ahead of him and shut the door behind her, right into Richard’s face. Richard patiently waited for her. He repeatedly reminded himself that since he supposed to demonstrate the sexual activity between Richard III and his wife, then he should take the lead of whatever was going to happen in there. A few minutes later, his bedroom door opened a crack. He opened the door while hearing Anne jumped into his bed.

Her clothes and shoes were on his floor. And her panties.

Obviously she was stark naked under his covers.

Richard could only guess it could’ve been a medieval tradition.

“Well…my lord Richard,” she spoke meekly in a poor British accent.

“Lady Anne.” How hard was it for him to keep a straight face! Role-play was hardly ever his favorite in his past relationships.

She was looking at him, wondering what he’d do next.

It sucked that he was a journalist, a person who whose writings are based on facts. It’d probably easier for him had he been a romantic novelist.

“Excuse me,” he turned and left the room.

Anne asked nothing. She did not cry out for him to stay, as commonly depicted in medieval romances. Based on what she read on the girls upbringing in Middle Ages, she assumed Lady Anne was taught to obey and be patient when her husband; and thus should not say nay to whatever Richard of Gloucester did.

A few moments later, Richard came back with a glass and a bottle of wine.

He poured a glass full and brought it to Anne’s lips. “Drink,” he said, using a commanding tone.

Obediently, Anne drank the wine, slowly. After one glass, Richard poured her another.

That was too much for Anne. A lightweight girl who almost never touched a drop of alcohol, one glass of wine was too much. She tried to push it away, but Richard insisted. “Drink it, it’s good for you.”

After she finished the wine, Richard grabbed a tissue and wiped her lips. Anne lied back down against his pillows.

The wines certainly made her drowsy, but relaxed as well.

As Richard was about to leave, she took his hand. “Don’t go,” she said gently. “Stay.”

Richard lied down next to her on the covers.

“So…he just fed her wines and nothing more?”

“There were more,” Richard said while swallowing his yawn. “But you have too much alcohol in your system. I don’t know the standard of medieval times, but in today’s world it’s called date rape.”

Anne laughed to herself. “You’re right. Lady Anne probably felt very awkward and a little nervous. Was she a virgin?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Even that was a mystery. Her first husband had a mother who was believed to be a mother-in-law from hell. Some said that she forbid her son to sleep with Lady Anne and thus King Richard was her first and only. Others said that Lady Anne did lose her virginity to her first husband, and it was either not good enough or brutal.”

Stroking her bare shoulders, Richard asked, “You think her two husbands are very different in bed.”

“Oh that was for sure!”

“You are so confident. How could you know?”

“Because,” Anne turned to face him while pressing his hand against her cheek. “Edward of Westminster, her first husband, was not experienced in sex when he married Lady Anne. His mother was strict and she would not allow him to bed anyone; or at very least, there was no record of his sexual activity or of his possible bastard children. Richard of Gloucester, on the other hand, already sired two bastards before marrying Lady Anne, or at least assumed since there was evidence to support this theory. Plus, he was almost twenty by then. During the Middle Ages, men do not stay a virgin at age nineteen unless they were groomed to be monks.”

“What do you think of this Richard III in bed?”

Anne laughed. “Probably…rough but sexy…he was a warrior and a scholar…he had good looks…his body was skewed but I’m sure Lady Anne didn’t mind…he may be cold from the outside, but I can imagine he has a soft spot and a passionate side too.” She paused and then said, “Richard, I am not drunk…but I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. Tonight…before I drift off to sleep, can you at least let me feel a thing or two…that Duke of Gloucester did with Lady Anne…”

Richard was hesitant, to say at the least. _What did Richard III do on his wedding night? How hard could it be? Probably not much different from what an ordinary man would’ve done._

One thing…or two…

He pulled down the cover, revealing her upper torso. He leaned down and gently placed a kiss on her throat and then another between her breasts.

Crazy she may be, but she was certainly addictive.

Before he could continue, Anne stopped him and pulled the cover back up. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Hearing that, Richard grabbed his pillow to leave. Before he could walk out the door, Anne asked from his bed, “You think we can pick up where we left off tomorrow or later on this week?”

Her eyelids were heavy. Before Richard could respond, she was already asleep.

Now he could breathe.

Closing the door behind him, Richard tiptoed to the dining table (not wanting to wake Anne up). He picked up that break-up box of hers and left the apartment to throw it into the dumpster. He came back and checked on Anne. She was still there, in his bed sleeping.

_You think we can pick up where we left off?_

He laughed and shook his head. He turned on his laptop and googled “Richard III sex”.

The results were…interesting.

Either it was what Anne already told him or some screenshots of a custom drama. Surprisingly, the setting and custom of that show were nothing like what was depicted in the medieval caricatures. He could only guess that was the show that Anne could not stand.

_He died at age 33…had three children…so he definitely had sex at least three times in his life…33/3 = 11…so once every 11 years?_

Why did he even have to care? Tomorrow morning he will tell Anne sayonara. It’d be Thursday, so she’d be fine.

As he lied down on his couch, his work phone rang.

It was his boss, William Hastings.

“Richard, this is Bill.”

“Hi Bill,” Richard greeted. As a journalist, it was not uncommon for him to get a call at unusual hours.

“Don’t take it personal, but I saw you today with someone. And that someone had caused someone I know traumas. I want to warn you before that someone put you through the same trauma.”

_What a small world!_

“It’s fine, Bill. She’s okay.”

“Richard, it’s Wednesday. I saw you with her yesterday at the movie theater,” he paused and then explained himself. “I was taking my wife to see _Labor Day_ and I just happened to saw you with that someone. I only want to warn you: do not be surprised if cops bang down your door sometimes this week. Crazy girl with her box and the creation of human speech!”

The same story told by George, one of her ex, and himself, eventually.

“Bill, she’s fine; she’s sleeping right now in my room.”

After an uncomfortable moment, William Hastings advised him, “Make sure she’s sound asleep, at least before the clock strikes twelve. Tomorrow morning, meet me at my office because I have a special assignment for you. If you get this, the next promotion is yours.”

That was…interesting.

This was an interesting world indeed, which was why he wanted to be a journalist to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To avoid confusion, I have the historical figures named as the following:
> 
> Lady Anne Neville = Anne of Warwick  
> Edward of Lancaster = Edward of Westminster
> 
> Technically, these were their titles. My point is to avoid confusion since Anne Neville and Edward Lancaster are modern world characters in this fic.
> 
> So here you go, Richard found a way to make Anne stay for the first Wednesday. As you expected, it would not be the last Wednesday he had with Anne, but you will see why soon.
> 
> Anne is not insane per se, but she could use some help from social workers. Her past will be revealed in the future as well.
> 
> The title of the story came from a nursery rhyme "Monday's Child". In case if you missed it, Anne Neville in this fic was born on a Wednesday.
> 
> More smut will ensue! Comments please!


	5. 2nd Wednesday: My Lord, Time for Your Bath...

Richard was preparing breakfast when Anne sauntered out from his bedroom. She was certainly not a morning person, at least on this Thursday.

“Hi,” she greeted him gently. “Do you have Tylenols?”

She only had two glasses of wines and yet she looked as if she was having hangovers.

“Here you go,” Richard poured a glass of water and handed her a bottle of Tylenols. Anne sat and swallowed two tablets.

“Heading to work?” She asked.

“Yeah, I have to meet with my boss in,” he said as he checked his time. “About an hour.”

“Then I guess I should go then.” Anne stood up.

“I can drop you off by your place if you like,” Richard nicely offered.

“No, I’m fine,” Anne refused. “I know the way back.”

Before she could leave, she looked at Richard and said, “Look, about last night…I know it was weird…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Richard said generously, referring the Wednesday breakup at 8PM.

“But I’m really fascinated by it,” she said, obviously she meant the role-playing. “You don’t know how much this meant to me. Richard III’s image had been ruined for centuries, and now thanks to that stupid author his sex life is debauched as well. Finally, some of his righteous images can be restored. I mean, based on what you showed me last night, he was such a considerate husband…”

She went on and on and Richard pretended to listen.

“Anyway, I’m sure that secret record is more than just about one night of his married life,” she continued. “If you know more, let me know.”

She gave him a smile.

Richard nodded and smiled back. “I will.”

“Thanks Richard, have a good one.” She turned to leave.

“I’ll call you!” Richard cried out after her.

That was the typical phrase he used when he never wanted to see his date again.

***

After he got to work, Richard went straight to his supervisor William Hastings’ office. “You like to see me?”

“Oh yes, Richard,” Mr. Hastings said after he removed his glasses. “And close the door if you please.”

Richard closed the door and sat. Mr. Hastings spoke, “Richard, you were my mentee back in college and I saw a lot of potentials in you. It’s a shame that I don’t have a son like you.”

“I’m flattered by your comments,” Richard said sarcastically.

“I do have a son,” Mr. Hastings said. “This is him back in college.” He pulled out two photos and showed them to him. “But this is him now.”

Indeed, his son had changed dramatically since college. He used to be slim and happy; now he was a fat couch-potato with no life.

“Richard, I called you last night because I don’t want to see you end up the same as my son. That person you were with, Anne Neville is her name. Am I correct?”

“That is her name,” Richard replied. “But we are no longer together.”

“I told you to keep her asleep until the clock strikes twelve!” Mr. Hastings cried out in desperation. “Why did you not follow my directions?”

“Relax, Bill.” Richard raised his hands in the air. “She left my place this morning; and today’s Thursday. I told her we’re through.”

“Then get back together with her,” Mr. Hastings suddenly changed his tone.

“What?” Richard could not believe his ears.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Hastings said apologetically. “I’m very interested in this Miss Anne Neville and her background story. Since the first day I saw you, I knew you stand out among people, particularly men, for some reasons. Now I know I am correct. Based on what I’ve heard in this area, she has done it to a handful of guys, here and elsewhere. None of her dates or boyfriends survived that Wednesday. These poor boys, either humiliated or being treated as criminal suspects. My son…oh my son…He met this Anne Neville back in college and they dated. On the first Wednesday of their relationship, she went to the library and dumped him before his study group. In front of his classmates, she gave him back his tissues, banana peel, eggshells…and then the next week her roommate reported her missing. The police were convinced that my son was involved in her disappearance. They called him down and questioned him as if he were a rapists or a murderer. Finally, she was found milking cows in Pennsylvania. My son is cleared, but…you should see the way people look at him. He still can’t find jobs because of his damaged reputation.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Richard said sympathetically.

“Whatever her background story is—I want you to find out,” Mr. Hastings said seriously. “I tried to research, but…no avail. I don’t know where she’s from, or her parent’s name…there are quite a few Anne Nevilles in this country and I don’t even know where to begin. You are the only guy who survived the first Wednesday with her, so I have faith in you.”

“Mr. Hastings,” Richard said reluctantly. “I’m…I’m not comfortable with this.”

“Aren’t you not curious, even a slightly?” Mr. Hastings raised an eyebrow. “I’m telling you now, Richard York—this is the topic of your next article and an offer you _cannot_ refuse. If you succeeded, there is nothing to lose but everything to gain. You will get your promotion; my son will get out of his couch; that Anne Neville…I don’t care about her but it can be therapeutic for her as well. If you like her, this is a way to know her better. If she’s too much to handle, you can simply tell her adios and get a life.”

“But I’ve already told her off,” Richard said.

“What did you say to her?”

“I said ‘I’ll call you’.”

“Good. Then call her. That’s an order!” Mr. Hastings refused to back down. “You can focus on this project from now on. Once you get it done, you’ll get promoted.”

***

Richard dialed Anne. After three rings, she picked up.

“Hi, Richard?”

“Yeah…hey Anne, do you want to meet up for dinner tonight? My treat!”

“Sure!”

And thus Richard continued his dating relationship with Anne, as if that Wednesday drama never happened. When they were alone, however, Anne from time to time asked him about that “discovery” of Richard III’s sex life. She wanted to know more; what else had Richard III done with Lady Anne?

Richard was quite annoyed by her naggings, initially. However, soon he realized it was the only solution to keep things in order. He survived his first Wednesday with her, what about their second Wednesday? Or the third? Or the fourth? Somehow, he needed to keep her minds off that “Wednesday at 8PM”. Since he successfully used that to keep her grounded on their first Wednesday, he could use it in the upcoming Wednesday and future Wednesdays as well.

At times, he debated if Anne only dumped guys on the first Wednesday of their relationship or she’d repeat this pattern until they finally broke up.

Well, it’d be better if he did not take risks.

At least until he finished his article.

And Mr. Hastings was right on one thing: whatever happened to Anne in the past, she needed to move on. What she had done to Mr. Hastings’ son was unfair and inconsiderate. Maybe it’d be the best therapy to write her story in black and white and shove it into her face.

Truly, he could’ve faced the same fate as Mr. Hastings’ poor boy.

Being called down to police station.

Intense drama at home with George and Isabel.

Ended up as either a laughingstock or a criminal suspect.

But…what was he going to do on the next Wednesday?

***

Richard was busying reading and taking notes as his phone rang. It was his brother Ed, asking if he could babysit his girls for the night. Richard told him no because he’s too busy. On his table, it was a bunch of books, including _Sex with Kings, Sex with Queens, Literary Lusts, Lustful Royal Marriages_. Since he had to make up something, it had to be convincing. On internet, he tried to research Anne Neville.

Nothing came out.

All he knew was where she went to college; that was it.

Thus, to know more about her, he had to stay close to her.

***

It was Wednesday; their second Wednesday.

Richard sent Anne a text, saying that he has more details on Richard III’s love life. Immediately, she responded, asking if he could show her like last week. Richard texted back, telling her he had left a box at her apartment complex’s office. There were items in the box that hinted her role for tonight.

Her response: I can’t wait!!!!

His response: Meet me at my place at 7:30 tonight.

Her response: See you then! J

***

Anne bolted to her apartment complex’s office for that box. Since under contract Richard could not tell her the content of Richard III’s sex life, he could only show her by role play or demonstration. That way, if anyone were to accuse him of leakage, there would not be any hard evidence to support their accusation.

In the box, there was soap; a bottle of bath oil; and a cream color loose dress.

She blushed and closed her eyes envisioning what Lady Anne of Warwick would do with these things for her lord husband Richard.

At 7:30 PM, she was right at his door.

“You come on in my lady,” Richard said in a husky tone. “You know what to do tonight?”

“By educated guess, I do. But I will not say a word.”

With that said, carrying that box, she skipped to his bathroom. Wisely, he remembered to hide his digital clock.

After a while, in that cream-colored loose dress, she came to him and dipped a curtsey. “Your bath is ready, my lord husband.”

Suppressing his laugh, he gave her his hand and walked to the bathroom with her.

The light was off, but it was full of lit candles. Anne undressed him slowly. After he was completely naked, Anne led him to the bathtub.

It was sexy.

Richard was absorbed into the mood until his toes touched the bathwater.

“What the hell!” he shouted and withdrew his foot. “The water is freezing!”

Anne looked at him bewilderedly. “Well that’s how people take baths back in Middle Ages,” she explained. “Warm water was not recommended since it was believed that it could open your skin pores and allowed the germs to enter your body system.”

Hearing that, Richard thanked God a million times that he was born in the 20th century.

“Change the water into warm water please,” he said. “I’m sure Richard III did not grow up in Antarctica.”

“Antarctica wasn’t even discovered—“

“I am your lord husband and I order you to change the bathwater into a hot one!”

Biting her lips, she nodded. “Yes, my lord Richard.”

Richard watched as she drained the water and then filled the bath with hot water. Then, she added the bath oil.

Taking her hand, Richard stepped into the bathtub and settled in comfortably. Kneeling on rug, Anne washed his body. Her soft hand stroked and rubbed his shoulder, back, neck, arms, and chest. Richard closed his eyes and enjoyed every second of it.

This was romantic.

When he opened his eyes, he found Anne leaned close to wash his chest.

He pulled her into a kiss.

When he released her, she lost her balance and got wet. She laughed.

Richard pulled her into another kiss.

The kiss became deeper.

Slowly, Richard caressed his lips against her neck, then down to the valley of her breasts. “Remove your dress,” he commanded.

Without a word, Anne slipped the dress off her body. As her dress pooled by her waist, his licked her breasts and teased her nipples with his tongue. Anne moaned in pleasure.

Her breathing became heavier as his lips went down to her stomach.

As he kissed back up to her neck, he whispered into her ear, “Why don’t you join me?”

Anne rose, carefully stepping out from the dress. She removed her panties and then stepped into the bathtub and into his arms. Resting her head on his shoulders, she rubbed his chest as he stroked her bare back. Anne closed her eyes and enjoyed their moments with each other.

Romantic, historical, and real.

At least from her perspective.

“The water is getting cold, my lord Richard,” she whispered.

“Bed then,” he replied.

Anne got out first and fetched herself a towel. Then she had his bathrobe ready. Richard stood as she slid his bathrobe on him.

Hand in hand, they went to bed.

After Richard released her towel, Anne jumped onto his bed. Then Richard joined her.

The two embraced each other, touching skin to skin. Anne closed her eyes as Richard kissed her shoulders and then pushed her down onto her back. She inhaled deeply as Richard suckled her breasts. His lips then moved lower and lower.

Anne really wanted him to be inside her, but based on her research, a proper lady like Anne of Warwick would not reveal her lustful desire for her husband, at least not in the early stage of her marriage.

Climbing on top of her, he wrapped her legs around her and asked, “Do you want me?”

“I do,” she replied. A wife should not lie to her lord husband.

He thrust into her while holding her arms over her head. He showered kisses on her lips and her breasts as he moved.

After they reached climax, both were panting with their bodies intertwined.

“I’m not done,” he said. “Come here.”

He guided her body to turn her back against him. He then entered her from the behind; after a few penetrations, he pulled her up against him while cupping her breasts.

Anne cried out in pleasure.

***

It was a long, passionate night.

By the time Richard released her from his embrace, Anne was completely exhausted.

“So this is it then?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, tired as well.

“Wow.” Anne could not resist the fascination. “He’s…he’s…great in bed.”

By “he”, she meant Richard III.

Strangely, Richard (York) became jealous—jealous of a dead English king. When he was in bed with a woman, he would not tolerate his partner thinking about another man. But, he reminded himself the dead king was the reason to keep Anne stay by his side, at least for now.

And tonight was great.

“Is…is there any more recorded episodes of his sex life?” Anne asked.

“Of course, the whole record is a doorstopper,” he said teasingly as he pulled up the covers.

“Are you going to show me more?”

“As you wish.”

“Oh,” Anne suddenly remembered something. “What time is it?”

“It’s Thursday early morning.”

“Oh, okay,” Anne settled back in bed. “Good night, my lord Richard.”

With a kiss, she sank into sleep. Richard was surprised himself—it was five hours but it went by like five minutes.

He didn’t know about Richard III, but he knew that himself Richard York was the master of sex.

 _It’s good to be King._     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter.
> 
> I watched Starz's version of TWQ, and let me just say that the sex scenes/smutty parts are edited wrong. I can't believe Starz's love scene between Richard x Anne was short and awkward. I was like...WTF?
> 
> And Valentine's day is coming up so I'm going to compensate my feelings by writing this smutty fiction. 
> 
> Let me know if you like it.


	6. 3rd Wednesday: My Lady, My Reader

Richard sat in the waiting lobby, reading magazines as he waited for the medical assistant to call his name. He made an appointment to see George.

The official reason of the visit was sick visit, possible hypertension and cardiovascular disease.

The real reason was, of course, discussion of Anne Neville.

He got George exactly where he wanted. Even if George couldn’t offer him any help, he could not tell anyone what he learned from Richard today.

HIPAA—something no clinician could afford to violate.

“Richard York,” a middle-aged medical assistant called his name.

Richard put down his magazine and followed the medical assistant into the clinical area. He sat on the exam room table, waiting for George.

A few minutes later, George came in wearing his white lab coat.

“Richard, my little brother,” he said sarcastically while flipping through his forms and charts. “You’re here because you’re having problems with your blood pressure and heart rate.”

“More than just those,” Richard said. “I need to talk to you and you can not reveal anything I told you in this room.”

“Of course,” George said nonchalantly. “HIPAA, you know them, and I know them. Let me guess, you-know-who gave you sexual transmitted disease?”

Not a bad educated guess behind Anne Neville’s Wednesday breakups.

“No!” Richard nearly fell off the exam room table. “It is about you-know-who, but it’s nothing like what you guessed.”

George folded his arms. “Okay, then. But I’m warning you Richard, whatever you’re about to tell me, it better be good. Or else, I’m going to discharge you as an annoying patient who wastes my valuable clinical time.”

“She and I, we’re still together.”

George’s eyes widened. “What? Are you serious? Together as…together together?”

Richard nodded. “Yes, we’re still dating.”

“And it is almost two weeks!” George checked his calendar. “Wow, Richard. We got to tell Ed! He’d be so proud of you!”

“It’s not what you think,” Richard stopped him before he could get more excited. “Anne and I…I’m sort of her psychotherapist and she is sort of my subject of my next article.”

“What?” George was confused. “What are you saying?”

“Sit down and I’ll tell you,” Richard continued as George sat on his stool. “Anne has a long history of this crazy Wednesday breakups, and one of her former boyfriend happened to be my boss’s son. The poor guy is completely ruined. Because of what Anne did, people see him as a rapist or abuser even though he is cleared from the charges in the eyes of authority. And thus, my boss ordered me to work on my next article on her.”

“Like _Meet Anne Neville: the Runaway Girlfriend_?”

“Something likes that,” Richard said. “I’m not happy with this either.”

“Why didn’t you break it off with her the following Thursday morning?”

“I did, but I used the wrong phrase!”

“Please don’t tell me you said _I’ll call you_.”

“I did.”

“Bummer,” George shook his head.

“Anyway, she’s now obsessed with me,” Richard added.

“What?” George could not believe what he was listening to. “Why?”

Richard explained his stunt as generally as possible.

“Richard, you…you have no idea what a mess you got yourself into,” George tried to hold down his laugh. “You should’ve told her goodbye when I told you at the restaurant Wednesday before 8PM.”

“I’m wondering if you could help me—“

“Not a chance!” George refused. “Isabel and I, we’re going strong. I certainly am not going to use Isabel to help you achieve the next Pulitzer Prize.”

“I guarantee you, it’s a win-win case for all of us,” Richard explained. “How stable do you think your relationship with Isabel will be if she continues to worry about her sister’s possible disappearance? After me, Anne would meet other guys, who could be meaner and nastier. Who knows? Maybe one of them get pissed off or does not take the rejection well. What if one of them never allowed her to walk out of the door alive? This can cure her.”

“And after your article got published?”

“It’s time for them to face the truth anyway! Anne herself already got a reputation out there!” Richard defended his stand. “Once I got her background story set, my article will clear up her damaged reputation. No one behaves like that without a reason.”

George did not know what to say. There was silence between them until the medical assistant reminded him of his appointment overtime.

“Little brother, this is your life,” George shook his head. “I’m not going to go against you, but I’m not going to help you either. This is a mess I do not want to involve. But I’m telling you now, you are ill. You do have problems with your heart and BP—because you gone mad. The source of madness is love and obsession. You are in love with her.”

***

In the midst of her research materials and grading papers, Anne played with her phone. She sent Richard a text, wondering if he had more to show her through role plays tonight. He replied no. _I will reach out to you when I know more,_ he said.

Anne: Dinner tonight?

Richard: No, you are not going to see me again until I reach out to you.

Anne: Why?

Richard: To make it authentic. Richard III was busy on the roads with duties, right? He could not see Lady Anne every day.

Anne: Oh! You are right on that!

Seconds later, she texted: I’ll be waiting!

Good. That’d keep her in town, at least for the time being. He spent most of his time over the weekend and on Monday and Tuesday on reading medieval literatures.

What act could he pull next Wednesday?

***

In the next few days, Anne ran to the apartment complex’s office daily, hoping there was a box for her. She had waited so long for the next role play night.

Last week was hot and marvelous. And after days of not seeing each other, Anne wondered how Lady Anne of Warwick felt when Richard of Gloucester was on the road. She would’ve missed him so!

Finally, on Wednesday afternoon, she received a text from Richard. _It’s here!_

Honestly, Anne didn’t pay attention what day of the week it was. All she wanted was the day of role play to arrive.

In the box were a copy of _Cantebury Tales_ by Geoffrey Chaucer and a floor length blue dress. Anne giggled in delight.

Richard III was a scholar; he had a collection of books. He and Lady Anne of Warwick must have spent countless great times together reading them.

Richard texted her: come to my place now.

***

His door was unlocked.

Anne waltzed in and locked the door behind her.

Richard was standing right before her. “Go change, you know the drill.”

Soon, Anne walked out from his bedroom, donning that blue dress. It was a long-sleeve, v-neck dress. In her hands, she was holding the book _Cantebury Tales._

“Come hither,” Richard guided her to his desk, which was completely cleared.

“Yes my lord,” she replied.

Richard had her leaned over his desk, with him standing behind her.

“Now, my lady, I had a long week. I want to hear some stories,” he said in a suggestive voice. “Read to me.”

Anne opened the book and started to read “The Knight’s Tale.”

As she read from word to word, Richard unzipped her dress. Anne could not suppress her pleasure when his fingers caressed her skin.

Suddenly, Richard spanked her.

“What…” Anne didn’t know it was done for pleasure or to punish her.

“Why are you wearing this?” He questioned, pulling the straps of her bra.

Now Anne remembered there was no lingerie back in Middle Ages.

“I’m sorry my lord Richard,” Anne apologized. “How foolish of me.”

“Don’t repeat the same mistake the next time,” he said while teasing her skin with his fingers. “Continue reading.”

Anne continued where she left off. Soon, though, she found it difficult to focus when Richard replaced his fingers with his lips.

It was hard to articulate the words while suppressing her gasps of pleasure.

Every time she distracted by pleasure, she was punished. Either by a spank, a pinch, or a bite.

Richard unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled it off of himself. Shirtless, he pressed his body against her back. Nuzzling her neck, his hands went under her dress to play with her breasts.

Now her bra was really getting his nerve.

Swiftly he pulled her up. He pulled her dress down to her waists and whispered an order, “Take it off.”

Obediently, Anne removed her bra.

Richard pushed her back down on the desk so she could continue reading. Meanwhile, his hands caressed her bare arms while his tongue licked her back. Anne started to breathe more heavily when he cupped her breasts and rubbed her nipples while sucking her neck.

And it couldn’t even get more difficult when his hands pulled up her skirt and touched her legs. As his palm moved up to her thighs, Anne could not hold down her moans and gasps.

“Why are you wearing this too?” He meant her panties, which he torn off.

He then took that book from her and threw it aside. He pulled her up and pushed her onto his desk in a sitting position. He grabbed the hem of her skirt and torn it apart.

“My lord Richard, the dress—“

“I will buy you a new one,” he said as-matter-of-factly. He knelt and pushed her legs apart. His tongue teased her inner thigh. Anne threw back her head as his tongue caressed her feminine area. Her fingers dug into his curls.

“Richard…Richard…I…I…”

Hearing her plea, Richard pulled away from her and stood. He guided her hand to his pants. Anne unzipped his pants and pulled down his pants along with his boxers.

Standing, he thrust into her as her legs wrapped around him; her nails dug into his back. 

After the lovemaking was over, the two rested in his chair. Richard sat with Anne curled up on his lap. He reached over for the book.

“Now, finish the tale.” He kissed her on the cheek.

***

“I have no panty to wear tonight,” she playfully whined. “But it is okay for one night.”

The two were now in his bed, with her resting on top of him.

“When you cried out ‘Richard’, who are you crying out for?” He asked while caressing her butts.

“Who else?” Anne laughed. “It’s Lady Anne crying out for her husband…and me crying out for you.”

“Does Lady Anne ever address her husband by his first name?”

“When it is just the two of them, in their private time together,” Anne whispered against his neck. “After he became King of England, she was the only person who had the privilege to address him by name.”

“It must be lonely on top,” Richard commented.

“It was,” Anne confirmed. “But he had no choice. Either he takes the throne or waiting for the day of his own execution. His nephew was only twelve, but in the Middle Ages, that was two years before he could sign his uncles arrest warrant and execution. It was a horrible time, either you live as a victor or die as a traitor.”

Then she changed the subject.

“You punished me quite hard today,” she said as she rose so that he could have a good view of her body. “You bruised me here, and here, and there.”

“Would you like me to make amends?” he teased.

“I would like that,” Anne said with satisfaction. She lied down and Richard kissed the marks on her body.

As his hand went down to her belly, Richard asked, “Richard III only had one child with Lady Anne?”

“They probably had more,” Anne said with her arms over her head. “Back in medieval times, miscarriages and stillbirths were not always recorded. Lady Anne was only a royal duchess in most of her marital life. No one paid much attention to her conception or birth as much as the queen’s. Highly likely, there were stillbirths, miscarriages, or babies die soon after birth.” She yawned and said, “I can’t imagine they only had one conception. Such a loving, passionate life together.”

Richard lied down next to her and asked, “Where are you from Anne?”

“Planet earth.”

“No, I mean which state, city,” he clarified.

“Why you want to know?”

“Because I never shared such…secret with anyone before. I like to know you more.”

“Where are you from?” She asked back.

“Nottingham, New York,” he replied. “Now your turn.”

“Greensville, Rhode Island.” Her eye lids started to drop.

Seeing her asleep safely in his arms, Richard was relieved that another Wednesday passed.

He now knew the next step: go to Greensville, Rhode Island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I hope you like this chapter too.
> 
> Comments please!
> 
> George plays a good guy role in this fic.


	7. 4th Wednesday: My Lord, Woe is on Me...

He took a train to Greensville, Rhode Island and rented a car. As he drove down the street, he found Anne’s hometown a simple, ordinary suburban town that was a mixture of middle class residents and some rich people. It was quite pleasant.

So that made Anne a suburban girl.

Yet, it did not exclude possible past traumas.

As a journalist, he had seen more than a few incidents where ordinary kids from good side of the town got involved in drugs, alcohol, and/or abuses.

He stopped at a café to grab something to eat. At the same time, he recorded his notes on Anne’s hometown. He looked around at the café, and noticed the framed newsletters on the wall. Curious, he went up close to take a good look at them. Based on these newsletters, this café had been around for a while. On the other side of the café, he found a bookshelf. On top of the bookshelf, there was an old yellowpage book. Richard found it dated back in 1992.

Bingo.

He flipped the pages and found two Neville families listed in the area. In his notepad, he wrote down their phone numbers.

Now he was going somewhere.

He stayed in a hotel that night. Using the phone numbers he recorded, he found three addresses linked to these numbers.

The next day’s afternoon, he drove to these places. Two of them were in residential areas. He knocked on the door and introduced himself as a godson of an old friend of Anne’s father. “Do you know where Mr. Neville is now? My father died suddenly and wanted me to tell him something, but I can’t reach him.”

The current residents of the houses told him that they did not know any Neville.

He tried the third address, and it turned out to be a spa. On the wall, there was a picture of a classy lady; her name was Ann Beauchamp Neville.

“Can I help you?” A young woman greeted him. It was awkward, for a guy to be at this place.

“Yeah…I’m…I’m here for a hand massage,” he muttered.

“Sure, follow me.”

Richard sat as she applied locations to his hands. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?” She smiled.

“That lady, whose picture is on the wall, is she still here?”

She shook her head. “No, she used to be the owner and manager of this place. But she moved away with her family.”

“You know where she went?”

“Somewhere in Massachusetts, I think,” she replied. “Over there, there’s a picture of her family. She had two beautiful girls.”

After his service was done, Richard went to see that family photo.

It was a Christmas photo with family members’ name printed on the bottom: Richard, Ann, Isabel, and Anne.

The little girl on her father’s lap—by her hair color and features, it was definitely Anne Neville.

Some people in the world never change.

Richard smirked.

So, her father was Richard Neville; her mother Ann Beauchamp Neville, who used to run a spa. They moved to Massachusetts from Rhode Island, at least since 1992.

***

From Rhode Island, he went to Massachusetts; it was Bedford, Mass.

Compared to Greensville, RI, this town was little backward and secluded.

Apparently, people who lived here stayed for generations. When he was eating lunch at a local restaurant, the waitress immediately pointed out that he was not from town; an outsider. Still, because of his good looks, waitresses were more than willingly to serve him.

“You are not from here, are you?” The waitress asked.

“No, but I know people here,” he replied.

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“A friend of mine dated a girl from this town,” he said. “Anne Neville is her name.”

“Oh?” The waitress seemed rather disturbed.

Sounds like Anne began her Wednesday break up habit long before college.

The waitress shook her head. “Mind if I ask how long have they been together?”

“For a week or so.”

“Your friend, he’s dead isn’t he?”

“Excuse me?” Richard was little surprised to hear that.

“I know it,” she said with a sigh. “Once a killer, always a killer.”

“Lisa!” the restaurant manager rebuked. “Don’t say that, you don’t know that.”

“Everyone knows what happened,” the waitress named Lisa stood her ground. “Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence, but three times? Come on! Either she is a killer or she is cursed.”

Now things were becoming interesting.

***

Sitting in the Bedford’s public library, Richard went through series of old newspapers of the town. Bedford’s library was small, but it did an excellent job archiving its newspapers dated since 1960.

And there were quite a few articles linked to Anne Neville; one even included her photo.

The first article titled: Thirteen years-old Boy Found Dead in the Woods; another article titled: Sixteen years-old High School Student Died in Car Crash.

Both boys, according to the news articles, died within a week after dating Anne Neville.

And both were with her physically minutes before their deaths.

The sheriff of the town, Thomas Stanley, even quoted, “Either this is a tragic misfortune, or we are looking at the youngest Black Widow in the state of Massachusetts.”

What about guy number 3? The waitress did say three times.

As he scrolled down, he spotted another article: The Town Holding Vigil for the Family Who Died in Plane Crash. The family, the Lancasters, originally planned to take the next day’s flight but changed schedule so that their son could attend the Junior Prom. There was a photo of him and his date taken after before leaving for the prom. His date was no one other than Anne Neville.

In the paper, one survivor from the plane crash mentioned that before the plane crash, a teenage boy sitting not too far away from her, whom she was sure was the Lancasters’ son, was having seizure. It caused some panics among the passengers; and then the plane started to shake.

Rest was history.

***

It had been a long week.

By the time he got home, it was Wednesday evening. His mind was so preoccupied with his findings that he completely forgot about it was Wednesday.

He placed his printed out articles in a tan-colored envelope and placed it in the drawer. He closed his eyes and reminisced the times he spent with Anne. Before he learned and witnessed her “Wednesday breakup fiasco”, he did find her odd at times. Even during their intimate moments, she seemed to be sitting on the borderline of want-him and don’t-want-him. While she did not refuse sex, she certainly wasn’t a fan of commitment.

“When I’m gone, the deer is gone,” she had told him on their second date.

Now he could see why.

However, one question bugged him: is it possible that Anne was involved in these teenage boys’ death, at least one of them? The first boy was found dead in the woods, fell to his death from the tree when his head hit the rock. He was hanging out with Anne on a tree house. Did he lost balance or was he pushed? The second boy died in car crash after leaving Anne’s house. The autopsy revealed that it was likely he died before car lost control, but the cause of death remained unsolved. And the last one was reportedly having seizures before the plane crash. Seizures…or poisoned? Richard knew that at times news articles exaggerate the truth. But still…

And how did her past traumas linked to her Wednesday break ups?

Quick thinking, Richard went through the articles again and noted the date of the death of those boys.

Using Google, all three date of deaths were Wednesday.

And look at the times when they were found dead: 8:30 PM, 9:49 PM, and 11:00 PM.

If all these deaths were tragic accidents, then obviously Anne was traumatized and wanted to avoid guys on Wednesdays. However, if these deaths were not accidents…

After all, there was a 2-3 years gap between their deaths; and they all shared similar pattern.

Murder can be addiction. Black widows, like other serial killers, kill by rituals—with designated time/date, methods, or type of victims. So, it was also possible Anne wanted to avoid men on Wednesdays so that she could control her urge to kill. And running away from the state afterwards…

A chill came to him.

Then again…he had been through three Wednesdays with her but he was still alive…

Yet it was because he was playing Richard III—her obsession and pet project she wouldn’t and couldn’t hurt.

In other words, without that “discovery of sex lives of Richard III” stunt and with Anne staying by his side, would he still be alive today?

As he became uneasy, he heard a door knock.

He went to answer it, finding Anne standing before him.

“Hi,” she said; her eyes were red, probably from crying.

“Anne—“

Before he could finish, she went to him and kissed him in the lips. “I know…that I shouldn’t come to see you before you call me out…but tonight…I need somebody…please,” she whispered as she caressed his face. “Make love to me...can we just be Anne and Richard tonight?”

That meant that she did not want to do role play today.

Suddenly, Richard wondered what day it was. Monday? Tuesday?

If today was Wednesday…

…and no role play…

Boy, he felt like Michael Douglas in the movie “Basic Instinct.”

Anne pulled away from him and went straight to his bedroom.

***

She was sitting on his bed, waiting for him.

Richard, meanwhile, could not erase the picture of that boy who was found dead in the woods. The other two boys could’ve died from poisoning. And the first one could’ve been pushed.

Anne really looked pitiful today. As she waited for him, she covered her mouth to prevent herself from crying. She did not seem to have an inch of murderess flesh in her.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

She shook her head.

Slowly, he approached and removed her shoes. He laid her down and then joined her. “What do you want me to do?” He asked.

“Make love to me,” she said. “Do whatever you want with me.”

After some hesitation, he leaned down to kiss her. Yet, she interrupted him, “You have wine? I could use a glass.”

Finding it a better idea, he went to fetch some red wine.

Wine made her relaxed. Wine made her drowsy. Drowsy people don’t have the energy to kill.

He was a little nervous before returning to the bedroom, wondering what she could have in store for him.

A knife…a gun…or arsenics hiding underneath the pillow?

Gathering all his courage, he went back to the room with one glass of red wine. Anne was still in his bed, waiting.

She drank the wine slowly; it seemed to help a bit.

She took his hand and placed it on the hem of her shirt.

He pulled up her shirt and kissed her stomach. He left a trail of kisses all the way up to her body as he pulled her shirt over her head. She lifted up her body as his hand reach to the clip of her bra on the back. Anne closed her eyes as he sucked her right nipple while rubbed the other one. When he pinched her, she gasped. “Don’t,” she said. “Can you be a little gentle tonight?”

“Sure,” he lifted his face from her breasts and went to kiss her on the lips. His hands went down to unbutton her jeans and removed them along with her panties. After she was naked, he undressed himself.

Anne seemed to crave for the moment when he was on top of her. Their hands intertwined with Richard holding her arms down.

It was an act of pleasure and caution.

When he rolled off her, she buried her face into his chest.

“Anne—“

“Don’t say a word, just breath,” she said, almost snapped. “I want to listen to your heart beat.” Her hand slipped behind him, holding him tightly.

He stroked her back and said nothing. His mind followed her hands’ movement.

“Have you…ever being cornered by group of people?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Something happened at work?”

She nodded against his chest and buried her face into his neck. “It was horrible…I…I…”

“Shhh,” he gently kissed her on the forehead. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it is not,” she said.

“What happened at work?”

“I got into an argument with a student today, over the grades. She…wants to know her grade for the course but I don’t have that. Her instructor placed the blame on me. I’m only a research assistant, not even her teaching assistant. She…she’s a bitch who shows to appreciation of anything that I do. You…you have no idea how stupid people can be…taking sides…spreading rumors…”

“It happens.”

“Hold me,” she beseeched. She kissed him in the neck, on the shoulder, then on the chest. She held him so tight as if she wanted to hide under his skin. “Can you hand me the wine? I want to finish it.”

Richard took the wine glass from his night stand. He guided the glass to her lips, like their first night of role-playing.

“What day is today?” She asked.

Richard took a deep breath. “It’s Tuesday.”

Heck, he just made it up.

“Liar.” She didn’t buy it. “What day is it really?”

Richard reached to his phone…and it was Thursday 12:45 AM.

“It’s Thursday early morning.”

She breathed a little easier, and so was Richard. Gently, he hummed a verse.

“Richard III sang to Lady Anne post coitus?” Anne asked.

“You know I can’t tell you,” Richard replied, taking a deep breath.

“It’d be amazing if he excelled in music, martial arts, literature…what a man…Lady Anne was a lucky lady.”

“Well, I was on the soccer’s team in college; I have a black belt in Karate; I was in the choir in high school; and I have a 4.0 GPA.”

Anne made no comment on that.

Ed would’ve laughed so hard at this.

He, Richard York, was bedding a possible serial killer and developing sexual jealousy towards a dead English monarch.

It was like a HBO drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anne's past will be revealed piece by piece in the next few chapters. Now, too, Richard realized the complex drama he got himself into. 
> 
> Comments please!


	8. 5th Wednesday: My Lady, allow me to amuse thy heart...

Richard woke up alone in his bed. Anne was nowhere in his room.

That gave him a moment of panic.

He never saw Anne that broken and sad before, not even on that crazy Wednesday when she presented her breakup box and her “creation of universe” speech. After their lovemaking, she clung on to him as if he was her one and only source of living. What if…

What if she ran off?

Or committed suicide?

Richard got out of the bed and ran out of his room. There, he found Anne sitting in his kitchen, staring blankly at a glass of water. Rubbing her forehead, her eyes were blank.

“You feel better?” Richard asked.

Hearing that, Anne broke down crying. Her shoulder was shaking; she could barely catch her breath. Richard decided to give her some space before say something to comfort her. A few minutes later, Anne managed to pull herself together. After she stopped crying, Richard handed her a tissue box. Anne grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.

“I have to go to work today,” she whispered. “But…I don’t even think I can walk into the building.”

“Anne,” Richard thought for a moment before he could say anything more. “People gossip and spread rumors 24-7, intended or unintended. If someone intended to hurt you with lies, then don’t let that person win. Show yourself, act as if nothing happened. If you run into hiding, then you just confirmed the rumors true.”

Anne bit her lips. “These people are horrible. It’s like…a nightmare replaying itself.”

Richard took her hand. “Don’t. You are a strong person, Anne. Stand up for yourself.”

“Easier said than done,” Anne snorted. “The entire crowd against one. You know what is funny? I was taught that if you don’t want to be laughed at, you laugh with them. But in the end, it’s just pathetic. My Dad told me that if people do not treat you right, don’t stick around—“

“Running away is not the answer either,” Richard said. “Where can you go? If you want to find a new job, they’d ask you for references and they’d ask why you left your previous job. You love what you do, I see that. Unless you want to go somewhere waitressing or mopping the kitchen floor—“

“I’ve done that and I’m pretty good.”

“But what if you face the same problem then? What would you do? Funny people are everywhere Anne.”

Anne took a deep breath and said, “I guess maybe I can…I don’t know…”

“You want to eat something? Food can make you feel better.”

“Food makes me sick,” Anne snapped, then realized she may have hurt Richard’s feelings. “But I can use a toast this morning.”

***

Richard drove her to work. He parked his car and walked Anne to her office building.

Anne stopped him before the door. “I can take it from here,” she said. “I don’t need you in there.”

 Yet, she barely had the strength to open the building’s door; she only looked at Richard.

The two stood there until the some people walked out of the building. They stopped after they saw Anne and Richard; they were rather surprised, but then walked on. Anne shook her head and then turned and ran into the building without a goodbye or thank you.

Richard went back into his car. He called his friend Rob Blackenberry, who worked as an analyst in forensic psychology. “Hey Rob, you have time today? My place…I have something for you to look at…Sure, pizza is on me.”

***

“A sticker for little Nicky,” George teased as he placed a sticker on a little boy’s shirt. The kid was brave today for his tetanus shot. “We will see you again next week.”

George loved his job at the family practice. When attending children, he imagined the day he marry Isabel and have kids with her. Tonight’s dinner would be special—he would ask Isabel to move their relationship to the next step: moving in together.

Unfortunately, it did not happen.

The main topic dominated their dinner conversation was Richard and Anne.

“George,” Isabel started. “Yesterday I heard my sister got into an argument with a colleague. She ran into the street without even looking at the road. A car _almost_ hit her. I texted her and called, but no response. Later today she texted me, saying that she was with Richard last night.”

“Oh,” George not too surprised.

“I’m a little bit worried about this,” Isabel continued. “I don’t want to offend you, but I don’t really like your brother Richard.”

“What’s not to like about Richard?”

“Richard is not good for Anne,” Isabel replied.

“Wait a minute here,” George began to defend his brother. “Your sister is the one who breaks up with men on their first Wednesdays. Her method of break up is unorthodox, cruel and unusual. So, reasonably speaking, it’s Anne who is not good for Richard.”

“Anne has been through some shits and she’s emotionally scarred,” Isabel defended her sister. “She has been with Richard for weeks now, which is a huge shocker. I’m wondering what Richard has done to her.”

“He _cured_ her—that’s what he did,” George explained the obvious. “She’s with Richard and she knows to go to him when she needs someone. That’s what people do in a healthy, normal relationship.”

“Oh really?” Isabel raised an eyebrow. “What if Anne became more and more reliant on Richard and then Richard leaves her for other women?”

“Richard is not that type of guy.” George was not happy with Isabel’s judgment on his brother. “I know Ed is a womanizer, but that’s Ed. Richard, despite his good-looks, is nothing like Ed.”

“I’m not saying that he’s a womanizer!” Isabel shook her head. “Richard is ambitious—always goes after something he can’t have. Once Anne gives in, he has her, and then be done with her. Anne cannot survive such an emotional train wreck.”

“Trust me, Anne is lucky that she found Richard,” George argued. “Her ‘Wednesday fiasco’ may sound funny, but she has absolutely no idea who she’s rubbing feathers with. Dumping a guy in front of his friend, or colleagues, or in the eye of the public and making him a laughingstock—what if the guy lost his temper and physically hurt her? Believe me, Richard is the best thing ever happens to her.”

Isabel still refused to buy it. “He’s a journalist…you don’t think there’s even a possibility that he’s interested in Anne only because she’s a bit of mystery? Once he knows what he needs to know, next thing—“

“Richard won’t do that,” George continued his argument. “As a nurse practitioner and a psychologist, I’d know when a man is in love.” He paused for a second and said, “Isabel, honestly, as your boyfriend and a good man, get your sister to some help. Whatever shit she’s been through, she needs to move on.”

“Anne is not crazy, that’s one,” Isabel said. “And two, it is always the men went after her. She never wants to be in a relationship.”

“So you are going to watch as she continues this strange habit until one day she disappears from the face of the earth?” George questioned. “By then, the authority will be tired of her and no one would care for her disappearance. What if she were really murdered by the man she humiliated with that Wednesday break up stunt and her body buried under a parking lot?”

“If I can get her help, then I’d done that long ago,” Isabel said. “Annie insisted that all she needs is time—time on her own.”

George decided to say nothing more. This conversation was not getting anywhere.

***

While George was bickering with Isabel, Richard was having pizza with Rob Blackenberry.

“Hey Rob, I got a favor to ask you,” Richard said as he drank his beer. “You studied psychology and forensics…so you’d know a criminal or a dangerous psychopath when you see one, right?”

“Maybe,” Rob replied. “It’s rather complicated. One glance is never enough.”

“Well, I need you to look at something,” Richard said, showing him the articles he printed out in Massachusetts. “Take a look and tell me what you think.”

Rob reviewed all the articles and then stopped when he spotted Anne’s photo. “This girl…isn’t she Isabel’s sister?”

“Yeah,” Richard nodded. Rob continued with review and examination. After he was done, Richard asked him, “So what do you think?”

“What do you mean what I think?”

“This girl…is she a black widow?”

Rob laughed out loud. “Richard, just by these articles is not enough information for me to make such a conclusion. But I know why you’re wondering. If these articles do tell the truth of the truth, then yes, that is a possibility. However, there is also a possibility that she is not.”

“But what do you think of this whole…incident?”

“By first glance, it’s a pity it happened in a town like Bedford, Massachusetts. By the description of how its authority handled the cases, it is obvious to me that people in this town never seen anything like this before. If we were to take this entire incident and throw it into New York City, it’d be different. The police force in Bedford probably never handled such a case. I mean, how could they leave a teenager’s death inconclusive like that? Info from these articles is not enough or reliable to profile a person.”

“So, in other words, you can’t make your conclusion on her?”

“No,” Rob shook his head. “What can you tell me about this girl based on your interaction with her?”

“She avoids commitment; she’s different at times; she’s a bit socially awkward; she has obsessions; she tends to run away from things.”

“Well then, that makes both sides of argument possible: either A) she is a black widow or B) these deaths were tragic accident. For argument A, these deaths occur around the same time of the day; victims were all with her prior to their death; victims all dated her; and the time between these deaths were about 2-3 years. Serial killers do take a break every once a while and they have a designated victim by gender or physical traits. We can say that she is a serial killer who kills boyfriends every two years. As for her current behavior, she is plagued by guilt and possible exposure of her crime that she tends to run away from people when her urge to kill comes to her. For argument B, there is no hard evidence that proved her as the killer. For the first boy, no one saw her pushed him to his death. For the last two boys, autopsy did not reveal any evidence of poisoning. Even if it did, there is no proof that she was the one who poisoned them. As for her behavior, she is scarred by these incidents to the point that she fears to become close to someone, particularly to a man.” 

“I like argument B better,” Richard muttered.

“Are you working on an article on her or are you involved with her?”

“A bit of both.”

“Richard, if I were you, I’d be careful,” Rob advised. “You can’t present her as a killer or a victim of tragic event only based on these findings. The way I see it, these articles are biased. Don’t let your feelings towards her impact your findings. If you want to continue this project, focus on the facts. You are a journalist, not a romantic novelist.”

***

Richard now had two things to worry about: his article and Anne. He needed to do more research, which meant to spend more times at Bedford, Massachusetts. At the same time, he wanted to make sure Anne stays in town. After her breakdown, he worried that she’d run off somewhere (again). To keep her spirit up and in town, he decided to tease her.

On Friday, he texted her, saying the box is here. She responded and then texted back: the box is empty.

Richard replied: I know, just teasing you.

On next Monday, he texted her again, telling her the box is here. She responded and texted the same thing: the box is empty, again.

Richard texted back: I know, just teasing.

On Wednesday, he texted her: the box is here.

She replied: The box is chained and locked.

Richard texted back: I know. Hold on to it and I’m coming to get you.

He drove to her place and picked her up.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Did Lady Anne ever question her husband?” Richard asked.

“No,” Anne replied. True, ladies were taught not to question their husband’s decision or interfere with their duties during Middle Ages.

***

Richard took her to Ed’s house.

There, Anne surprisingly found herself facing a group of men standing in front of Ed’s big screen. They cheered when they saw Anne and Richard.

“Anne, this is my brother Ed,” Richard introduced. Ed was much taller and more built than Richard. By first glance, it was hard to believe they were full-blooded brothers.

“Nice to meet you Anne,” Ed greeted her with a smile. “Tonight is my monthly Wii night. Me against my fellow colleagues. Richard, although not a doctor, excelled in this game.”

“What Wii game are you playing?”

“Samurai swordfight,” Ed replied. “It’s one on one. Our team is divided between specialists and primary care providers. And Richard is on my team.”

Anne watched as physicians dueled each other in this Wii game. She could only guess that their workload was so stressful that they needed this night to relieve themselves. When it came to Richard’s turn, he went to Anne and whispered, “Wish me luck, my lady?”

Instantly, Anne understood.

She tied and adjusted the wrist band of the Wii remote around Richard’s wrist and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Good luck, my lord,” she whispered.

She pretended this was a jousting match.

And Richard was winning. Watching as Richard swung the Wii remote, she envisioned Richard of Gloucester in the battlefield.

Anne began to get drowsy. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. In her dream, an armored knight on a white horse approached her. He removed his helmet and his face revealed—

“Anne!” Richard shook her awake.

Rubbing her eyes, Anne looked around. “Did you win?”

“Of course, check out the score!” Richard dragged her towards the screen. “I’m on top!”

“I’m so proud of you!” Anne gave him a hug. Oh, she had to remember to behave like a proper lady before others.

After leaving Ed’s house, Richard drove Anne back to her place. As they entered the apartment building, they passed by the entertainment room. Richard cleared his throat and let Anne there. Inside, there was a grand piano.

He sat gracefully before the piano and lifted the cover. He placed his hands on the keys and started to play Chopin.

Anne sat next to him and listened to his music; she was completely absorbed.

The music was passionate, touching, and emotional.

By the time he finished, Anne looked at him in awe. She leaned forward to kiss him, only to be restrained by him.

“No here, my lady,” he said. “In bedchamber.”

***

Richard unlocked the box; and inside was a green veil.

And thus Anne sat on the edge of her bed with only that green veil, which she used a portion to wrap herself like a gift while leaving the other portion trailing on the floor. Richard grabbed the hem of the veil and spun Anne into his arm.

After Richard made love to her, she sank into her imagination.

What had Richard of Gloucester done to amuse Lady Anne, say after she fell ill, or had a miscarriage, or when she lost her sister? Jousting was the most common sport and Richard of Gloucester was obviously good at it. Lady Anne must have proudly tied her handkerchief to his lance. Then at night, he played lute to her…

As her heart beat above Richard’s, she could feel what Lady Anne felt five hundred years ago—in love with a man whom she looked up to with worship and awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please!
> 
> This Wednesday's romance stunt is based on the story of Gawain and the Green Knight, where Lady Bertilak visited Sir Gawain to seduce him in three nights or mornings and left him a green girdle to test his purity. In this chapter, Anne plays the role of Gawain while Richard plays the role of Lady Bertilak. 
> 
> What do you think of Richard's relationship with Anne? Do you agree with George or Isabel?
> 
> Maybe a little Valentine's Day special to Richard x Anne fans with one shot...


	9. 6th Wednesday: My Lord, if there is reincarnation...

Richard rented a room from a woman named Arianna, who lived in Bedford, Massachusetts for a few years. Arianna was a heavy set, divorced Hispanic woman with two children to feed. She worked full time as an IT analyst for the Bedford school system. Her ex-husband used to be a teacher at Bedford High School but was fired after he had an affair with a fellow colleague, or so Arianna told Richard. Her ex-husband dropped by every now and then to help her with the house and the kids. He was a decent man, actually.

From them, Richard learned much about the town.

Most people in town lived here for generations, including those who lived in the trailers. Trailer or house, they all hung out together.

Only one rule to remember: outsiders were not invited.

And outsiders should not invite themselves.

In their eyes, both Richard and Arianna were outsiders since they were not born and raised here. Arianna was only in Bedford because of her job. Constantly, she told Richard how much she wanted to leave this place. “People here, you can’t even communicate with them,” she told Richard.

Richard wandered about town and eventually realized that there was nothing much to explore. It was quite rural compared to his hometown.

Some folks may prefer this place for its quietness and seclusion, kind of like Avalon surrounded by mists. Other people may find it rather depressing.

Richard did ask Arianna if she knew the Nevilles. Arianna replied no.

Apparently, Anne’s family moved out of Bedford some years ago.

Richard’s one and only shot was Bedford High School, where Anne attended. So, he applied a part-time job there as an English teacher, filling in for one who was on maternity leave.

The school was much smaller compared to his. His new colleagues were nice to him, but they did not make him feel very welcome. During lunch hours, they did not include him in their conversation. Honestly, from Richard’s perspective, these people really were not worthy to have a conversation with. All they talked about were: marriage, farms, dogs, babies, and getting drunk after football games. After a few days, if it hadn’t been for his assigned project and Arianna, Richard would’ve left.

Who could’ve stayed at this place? People here were so closed-minded.

He was only relieved that his stay was temporary.

***

Richard did make a friend with the school librarian, a kind old lady.

From the school’s library, Richard fished out the archived yearbooks from the past. He went past ten years and after flipping through one by one, he found the ones of Anne’s school years. Her photo was in yearbook during her freshman year, but not in her sophomore and junior year. She was not even listed as a Bedford High School student anymore in her supposed senior year. During her sophomore year, the yearbook dedicated a page to that boy who died in car accident after dating Anne for about a week.

Who happened?

Rob Blackenberry said that there is no evidence that Anne killed him. Regardless, it was not hard to imagine how people in town treated Anne afterwards.

Like him and Arianna, the Nevilles were “outsiders” as well since they moved to Bedford from Rhode Island.

When he walked out of the school library, he spotted a poster nearby the locker. It was a poem:

_Monday's child is fair of face,_

_Tuesday's child is full of grace,_

_Wednesday's child is full of woe,_

_Thursday's child has far to go,_

_Friday's child is loving and giving,_

_Saturday's child works hard for a living,_

_But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day_

_Is bonny and blithe and good and happy._

The last word of this poem was supposed to be “gay”, but he guessed that it changed to “happy” due to school policy.

***

It was Wednesday again.

Anne looked into the box and found a thin strap white dress. She couldn’t help but smile.

She then got a text from Richard, knowing that he was here.

She quickly changed into the white dress and went to see him. She got into his car and let him take her to their final destination.

She did not ask where this time.

Richard took her to the lake. It was just the two of them.

From his trunk, he had a blanket and a picnic basket. Anne gleefully took the picnic basket as Richard spread the blanket on the grass. Anne settled on the blanket and opened the basket. Hams, bread rolls, fruits, and fine wine. Like a good lady, Anne prepared Richard’s dish. To her surprise, Richard took the dish and fed her instead. Anne giggled. She leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

He then poured her a glass of wine.

She enjoyed the food and wine. She found it even more romantic when the moon came out.

But Richard didn’t eat anything.

“Not hungry tonight, my lord?” She asked.

Richard only smirked. He laid her down on the blanket and then took out a bowl of fruit from the basket.

Cherries, strawberries, and raspberries.

He placed a cherry on her lips and ate it from there. Then he placed a strawberry on her throat, and ate it from there.

He continued this pattern with a cherry between her breasts; raspberries on her nipples; strawberries on her stomach; and a cherry from her belly button.

“Now I’m all fruity,” Anne laughed.

He moved down to her legs and pushed up her skirt. Anne closed her eyes as he rolled his tongue from her ankle to her thighs. She lifted up her hip so that he could pull down her panties.

The pleasure was like endless fine wine.

A while later, Richard climbed on top of her; she removed his shirt and undid his pants. They joined hands as they made love.

And it ended with a kiss.

Wrapping them together in the blanket, Richard caressed her skin as she stared at the moon.

“Wow, amazing isn’t it?” She muttered. “They say you can know a lot about a person from one passionate night…no wonder government uses sex kittens to seduce political enemies…love-making is like a key that opens the door to endless mysteries about a man…”

Obviously she was referring to Richard III.

Hearing that, Richard deepened his nails into her flesh. Anne grimaced but did not complain. Maybe she liked it.

“Why are you so interested in him?” He couldn’t help but asked.

“I used to love Shakespeare when I was a kid,” Anne murmured. “I saw the film _Richard III_ , the one with Laurence Olivier. I thought he was a scary, creepy man. Then…in high school, I read a novel called _Sunne in Splendour_. That book is so good…and I looked at Richard III in a different light and found he’s not like what Shakespeare described at all. It’s sad that people take rumors or propaganda as fact. The real truth and what is believed…they can be different as ying and yang.” She turned to face Richard. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I hate it when people judge a person based on rumors and gossips. No one suffered from this more than this king. They just discovered his remains…he was buried like a dead dog. He was a king…a human being. I guess that what happened when the majority turned against you. You are not even worthy as a dead dog.”

Now she sounded sad.

“Are they going to rebury him?” Richard asked.

“Of course, but they are still arguing about where,” Anne shook her head in frustration. “What do they need to argue about? He was the rightful King of England for God’s sake! He belongs to Westminster Abbey, along with his queen. She had waited for him…for centuries. TB…it happened so quickly…they probably had a lot of things to tell each other…unless there is reincarnation…”

Her eyes gazed at the sky.

Richard wanted to ask her something, but he waited for a moment to make sure it came out right.

“How would you describe this Richard III now?”

Sniffling, Anne replied, “He is…a great lover; a very considerate lover towards his wife. He is a very passionate man…and talented in multiple fields. He’s an accomplished warrior and a musician…He loves his wife…I know it now! No woman can deny that!”

She laughed in satisfaction.

Richard said nothing.

In his mind, these role-playing Wednesdays became a bit like an awkward threesome: himself, Anne, and Richard III.

“Oh Richard!” Anne whispered as she jumped out of his arm and pulled up her dress. “I think I see a police car! We have to go!”

Richard cursed under his breath. In the modern world, no one can have sex in public settings.

Yet, since Richard III was King of England, maybe he could by simply order everyone to go away.

 _Damn him_!

***

At the library of Bedford High School, Richard found the book _Sunne in Splendour_. It was fairly old; a bookmark was left in it.

When he checked out the book, the old library lady raised an eyebrow. “You are the first person who checked it out,” she said.

“Really?” Richard assumed Anne had checked it out a number of times back when she was here.

“Yeah,” the old library lady let out a sad sigh. “It belonged to a girl who used to go here…she spent most of her time here, at the library. The last time she was here, she was dragged away by a British exchange student. And…she left the book here. She never came back for it.”

The British exchange student…

…that Lancaster family who died in the plane crash.

“May I ask you…what is that girl’s name?” Richard asked.

“Anne,” the old library lady replied. “A decent girl…such a tragedy.”

***

At Arianna’s house, Richard flipped through the book. After removed the book’s jacket, Richard found a note in book’s cover: _To Anne Neville, from Edward Lancaster_.

Edward Lancaster was the guy who went to junior prom with Anne and died in plane crash the next day. It was said that he suffered from seizures before the plane crashed.

So, Anne was in the library, reading the book…a gift from a British exchange student…then this Edward Lancaster took her away and she left the book here…she never came back.

Given that Anne’s name wasn’t even printed in the yearbook along with her senior classmates, Richard could only assumed she left school since then.

He went to the kitchen to fetch something to drink. There, he found Arianna feeding her cat.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked.

“No,” Richard replied. “Reading a book, but I’m more interested in the book’s original owner.”

“Book’s original owner?” Arianna laughed. “Why?”

“It’s a long story,” Richard said. “The owner of the book, I guess she had a hard time fitting in back in high school.”

Arianna let out a weak laugh. “You are in Bedford, honey. Either you are one of them or you aren’t. People like you and I are like aliens to the folks were lived here for generations. How many times have you flied out of this country?”

“Twice.”

“Well, majority of people here never been on a plane. They hardly leave this town. You born here, marry your high school sweetheart, and then have babies. To communicate with these people is impossible.”

“You got that right,” Richard agreed.

“This girl you’re interested in, what’s her story?”

“From what I’ve heard, she moved here with her family years ago. Then she left school before her senior year.”

“It happens,” Arianna commented. “If you are an outsider, they never accept you as one of them. Among my colleagues, I only talk to people who share same background. It’s not right, but it is what it is. The folks here may greet you or say happy birthday, but their activities never include you. Some of my colleagues moved away because their kids have trouble fitting in. The school system, I’m telling you, is very biased against outsiders. Thank goodness my kids did not rub anyone in the wrong way.”

“I can see that,” Richard did not disagree.

_Either she is a killer or she is cursed!_

That waitress named Lisa had told him weeks ago. Maybe she went to high school with Anne.

Whatever the truth was between Anne and the three dead boys, one thing was for sure: she could not have stayed in town after her boyfriend number 3; because no one could’ve stayed in a place where people look at you as a murderer or a cursed person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bedford, Mass is a fictional town. It is a town in a rural area and quite secluded - every country has a place as such.
> 
> Now Anne's story begins to unfold and now you see why she cares so much about Richard III. 
> 
> Comments please!


	10. 7th Wednesday: My Lady, Shall I sang to thee...

Anne’s name and past presence were like a taboo at Bedford High School, or at least it seemed to be. Several teachers at Bedford High were her former classmates; their memories of her were not decent. During lunch time, they spotted Richard reading _Sunne in Splendour._ Immediately they went to him.

“That book, isn’t that girl Anne Neville’s?”

“Yeah, her last victim gave it to her.”

“If I were you, I stay away from it.”

Richard was not happy to hear what they said about Anne. Like what Blackenberry had told him, there wasn’t any evidence that proved Anne was the killer. Despite his disapproval, he did not openly defend Anne. He still needed to stay in the area to learn more about Anne’s past.

“Who is this girl, Anne Neville?” He asked, playing dumb.

“She…she is different,” one of his colleagues told him. “She doesn’t have any friend.”

“Well, yeah nobody likes to talk to a killer,” another chimed in. “First one happened in middle school, then it was her freshman year, and then junior year.”

“Or maybe she was cursed,” the third one said. “I checked out her birthday. She was born on a Wednesday. You know ‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe’. I guess she is born to be a widow.”

“Was there any investigation? A trial?” Richard asked.

“Yeah,” the first one answered. “Based on what I have heard, there is not enough evidence for a trial. But still, each time a guy gets close to her and dies? That says something.”

“So what happened to her?” Richard asked.

“She left school after junior prom,” another colleague told him. “I don’t think she would have the guts to come back after what she did to that British kid.”

***

Richard went on the district court website and checked things out. Indeed, Anne was never on trial for any of these deaths. The first one was ruled as an accident; the second one remained unsolved since the cause of death was unknown. The last one, Edward Lancaster, died in a plane crash. Even if he did die from other causes prior to the crash, there was no way of knowing since his body was cut into pieces.

By now, after living at Bedford for weeks, he learned much about the town and the school Anne went to. The high school principle had worked there for nearly 50 years; he was supposed to retire years ago but remained here and had a great legacy. Bedford High excelled in volleyball; its football team was okay. The students at Bedford high were mostly born and raised in Bedford, except for a handful of students who came from other towns. After graduation, most of them attended the community college nearby or University of Massachusetts at Bedford. Those students who were viewed as outsiders—most of them went to college elsewhere.

Anne obviously did not have a happy time here. At least, not since of death of her first boyfriend in middle school. People avoided her and ostracized her.

From the news article he collected, he saw a photo of the house she used to live. Driving around town, he found it.

It remained unoccupied.

So he called the real estate agent, whose contact information was listed on the sign in front of that house, saying that he was interested in the house. The agent gave him a tour. The house was colonial with four bedrooms. One of them was painted in pink; he guessed it was Anne’s. On the wall, there was a line written on the wall: _And everyone condemns me for a villain. A.N_.

As Shakespeare once wrote _and every tale condemns me for a villain_ in the play “Richard III”.

“So what do you think Mr. York?” The agent asked him.

“If you don’t mind, may I ask you why is this house remained empty for so long?” He asked.

The agent shook her head. “The original owners, the Nevilles, moved out of there years ago after they could not endure any more harassment. I’m not from here, but based on what I’ve heard, their daughter was accused of murder or some sort. I don’t know exactly what happened, but after they moved out this house have to be repainted.” She then lowered her voice. “If I were you, I might want to find somewhere else to live. If you want to stay in town, then pick another house.”

She said no more.

Richard went back to Arianna’s house that night and looked over that novel _Sunne in Splendour_ again. Aside from her bookmark, she marked several pages with dog-ears. The first marked page was when Richard of Gloucester found Anne of Warwick at the inn; the second marked page was the wedding night of Richard of Gloucester and Lady Anne; the third marked page was Richard of Gloucester comforting Lady Anne after her miscarriage…

And the bookmarked page was where Lady Anne died from tuberculosis.

Perhaps after being ignored by her classmates, Anne sought comfort and hope with the content of this novel.

***

It was Wednesday again.

For Anne, her role-playing romantic night with Richard was beyond words can describe. After each role-playing night, she looked forward to the next and so on to the point that she no longer cared what day of the week it is. All she wanted was to receive a box from Richard, open it, and then wait for him.

Today’s box contained three items: a V-necked white nightgown and two puppets.

After another text from Richard, she went to his place.

She waltzed into his apartment, all-smile. Seeing her this happy, Richard felt a little sad. He had never guessed her high school days be that hard and terrible. Teenage years are a special time that shaped a person into who they are. Even before her Wednesday break up stunts, Richard had found her different. Behind her smiling face, it was an empty void.

Now he knew why.

Maybe she was never this happy for years.

She went into his bedroom to change into the nightgown and remembered no panties.

Suddenly, the bedroom light was turned off. And the nightlight was turned on; shadows appeared the wall. Anne turned and found Richard approaching. He lifted her up and carried her to his bed. With two puppets in hand, he held them up as their shadows displayed on the wall. Then he handed one to Anne.

“Once, there was a prince,” he started to narrate. “He went to train as a knight under the tutelage of an Earl. And the Earl had a daughter, called the Lady.” He gave Anne a look.

Following his lead, Anne held up her puppet, playing the Earl’s daughter. “The Lady watched as the prince trained hard. She fell in love with the prince and was elated after her father the Earl informed her of their betrothal.”

“But it never happened,” Richard continued. “The prince was called into the battlefield by his brother the King. Before he left, he bid the Lady farewell and left her his glove.”

“The Lady waited for her prince’s return. She waited and waited until one day her father the Earl fell out with the King. The Earl died in the battlefield and left his daughter in the hands of the enemy. She was branded a traitor’s daughter. She was hidden away because no one wants to see her.”

Now she sounded a little sad. No one knew how it feels better than her.

“But the Prince never stopped loving her. In his eyes, she is always that innocent, beautiful girl he loved since their childhood days. He saved her and asked for her hand.”

 “The Lady asked him, ‘Why are you so good to me? Am I not a traitor’s daughter?’” She was choking on her words.

“The prince said, ‘Because I love you. As a true husband, I never doubted your heart and never will.’” He sounded so sincere.

Anne inhaled deeply and said her lines. “The Lady said, ‘What about the King? Your marriage to me will cause you to lose favor.’”

“The prince said, ‘So be it. Your heart is beating above mine and thus you are half of me. I am not a traitor, and thus you are not either. I love you, perhaps I always have.’”

“Then the lady says, ‘I accept.’” Anne smiled.

“And they went to a chapel and got married. They lived happily ever after.”

Anne watched touchingly as the shadow of the two puppets came together.

Taking her puppet from her, Richard leaned over to kiss her. Carefully, he put them on the nightstand so that they would not roll over them. Anne set comfortably against the pillows and held on to Richard as he nuzzled her neck. She undressed him as he showered her with kisses. Slowly, he pulled down the straps of her nightgown and covered her body with kisses. Anne enjoyed the moment when they touched skin to skin.

Tonight, she felt something different, as if a hole in her heart began to fill.

She settled in his arms and slept with her hand rubbing his chest.

***

“No…no…no…”

Richard woke up hearing her moaning. She was having nightmare.

An intense nightmare—so much that she was scratching his chest.

“Anne?” Richard turned on the light and rocked her gently. “Anne, wake up.”

Anne jerked her eyes open, and pushed herself away.

“What is it? Did you have a bad dream?”

Anne was shivering; she wrapped her arms around herself. A moment later, she turned and looked at Richard. She reached out to touch him, as if he weren’t real. She sighed in relief and finding him there and unharmed.

“You’re not hurt?” She asked.

“No, I’m fine and right here,” he comforted her. Slowly, Anne leaned down onto his laps. She stroked his hand and caressed it with her lips.

“I had a nightmare,” she said, her voice quivering. “It was snowing. It was so violent…so much blood…and…”

“Anne, it’s May,” Richard tried to calm her down. “How could there be snow? I’m fine and see, no blood.”

Anne kissed him all over, as if she wanted to shield him from potential harm. Richard would’ve laughed at her at another time.

After she calmed down and rested in his arms with his fingers dancing on her skin, Richard gently asked her, “Would you like me to sing to you?”

“Sing to me?” Anne chuckled. “Are you good?”

“Of course,” he said with confidence. “Do you like David Bowie?”

“He’s okay.”

Richard started to sing to her gently, “It’s a god-awful small affair, to the girl with mousy hair…”

His fingers tapped against her skin as he sang. Anne pressed her face against his throat, feeling the vibration from his voice. He kissed her on the head, stroking her hair as if she was a precious child.

“What day is it?” She asked, which she hadn’t done for a while.

“It’s Thursday.”

Hearing that, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep again. She slept peacefully.

***

Richard woke up the next morning and found Anne not by his side. He got dressed and went to the kitchen to see if she’s there.

She was there, with plates of pancakes and eggs. “I made it!” She claimed proudly.

“Did you really?” Richard was not buying it.

“No,” Anne admitted. “I bought it from Wendy’s. But still my treat!”

The two enjoyed their breakfast together. “Guess what happened yesterday?”

“What?”

“My boss got fired!” She said with a glee. “She mentored a student writing his honor-thesis paper based on that stupid British author and her TV show. You can’t use a fiction novel as legitimate history resource.”

“I guess that makes your life better now.”

“I know and it is!”

***

When Richard returned to Bedford he found the school was closed. Not really closed, it was more like a locked down.

News cameras surrounded the school building. What happened?

Soon, a few faculties walked out in handcuffs, followed by students who were in handcuffs as well.

His journalist instinct immediately came to him. He went towards to the news anchor who broadcasted the news: several faculties of Bedford High School are arrested on the charge of statutory sexual assault and distribute alcohol to minors…

Taking out his notepads, he jogged down notes and then asked around for more information. Most bystanders told him nothing other than it must be a big misunderstanding.

A few days later, the town Bedford became some sort of a media circus.

It turned out that the several members of faculties were drinking beers with the boys volleyball players after games on school grounds. While drinking, they shared the details of their sex lives. Some of the arrested students confessed that the faculties taught them how to “deflower” young virgins. A number of their “deflowered” virgins were under age of 16, which means statutory rape.

Weeks went by and more dirty laundries revealed. Turned out that “thing” went on between the faculties and volleyball players had been going on for several years, at the very least. The participating faculties were called out a couple of times, but nothing was done. Now, several more young women stepped up and claimed that they were rape victims of Bedford High School faculties and volleyball players.

Richard decided to stay around the town and learn as much as he can.

He even got a call from William Hastings.

“Hey Richard, have you heard what is happening in Bedford?”

“Yes Bill, I’m there right now.”

“Are you? I thought I assigned you–“

“Trust me Bill, this is a big lead,” he said. “The project you assigned me, they are interlinked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you seen "Hunky Dory" starring Minnie Driver and then-less-known Aneurin Barnard? Watch on YouTube and listen to him singing David Bowie's Life on Mars. He got a great voice.
> 
> IMO, TWQ is a double-edged sword for him. On one hand, it did make him popular. However, on the other hand, he was stuck in a bad scripted TV series and he may be now typecast as a boy with pretty face.


	11. 8th Wednesday: My Lord, Let's Eat!

The Bedford Volleyball Scandal dominated the news media.

It was like cancer; after one cancerous cell discovered, then more were found. And it grew.

Soon, Bedford, once a quiet town no one paid much attention to, became a town with a notorious reputation. The high school was closed down. Students stayed at home. Seniors were supposed to graduate soon, but that came to a halt. More faculties were called down to the police station for questioning. Eventually, it was revealed that most faculties knew or at least heard about what the volleyball coach, sports staff, and teachers did with the senior volleyball players after game. Yet, no one did anything. The Bedford High School’s principle, who overseen the school for nearly 50 years, knew about it as well.

Obviously he did nothing.

Or else, that scandal would’ve stopped sometimes ago.

The second week after the scandal exposed, the old principle fell ill. Lying in his bed, he stared at the ceiling. News camera surrounded his house like packs of wolves. The reporters underestimated his legacy in town. His students—alumni and current—started a riot near his house. They threw rocks at the reporters and smashed their equipments. Even a news van was crashed.

The newscast and reporters, hiding behind the trash cans and laying low, continued to broadcast.

Richard missed none of it.

Quietly, he walked around and followed the activities of the students and townspeople.

Arianna told him that the school system is very biased against outsiders while protecting their own people. Well then, looked like even if their own people were committing a heinous crime, they would still side with them. Teachers and staff were supposed to be role-models for students. Shouldn’t they tell the senior volleyball players to not drink under age or wait to have sex before they are mature enough to take the responsibility for the consequences of sex? Working at Bedford High School in the past few weeks, Richard himself had experienced and witnessed how the students, faculties, and staffs divided between the townspeople and outsiders. Richard made some friends with some school staffs and faculties who came from other towns like him. They went out to bars or watch games. They laughed about their experiences in moving from one state to another and flying abroad. The townspeople hardly ever invited him to any of their activities. Once, an English instructor invited Richard to play bingo on a Friday night; she was about his age. That was sort of an eye-grabbing event. Richard politely turned her down.

Who in the world was in the mood to play bingo on a Friday night? He was not ready to retire yet!

The townspeople were not warm to outsiders; and outsiders in turn did not find it worthy to blend in with them.

And thus there was a divide.

Richard constantly thought about Anne. Was she one of the victims of the statutory rape? By his educated guess, and he hoped, that the answer is no. Most of the senior volleyball players were townspeople. He guessed that Anne was probably excluded in this type of activity as well—one of the better consequences from being ostracized by the town.

He checked his phone from time to time, wondering how Anne would react when she hears about the scandal.

No call or text from her.

***

When he saw Anne again after returning from Bedford, he found her exceptionally cheerful. She couldn’t stop laughing.

She never talked to him about Bedford; in fact, she even avoided the subject. They heard the radio broadcasting update on the Bedford Volleyball Scandal, Anne turned it off.

Richard said nothing to that.

“It sucks that we have to be around people today,” Anne complained. “I thought it’s only going to be you and me.”

“It works, trust me,” Richard said with full confidence. “We are going on a road trip together to a drive in movie. Your sister will be there with George; and my pals Francis and Rob will join us too.”

“That many people?”

“Anne, ask yourself, since when Richard III was always alone with Lady Anne?”

Anne tilted her head, and then gave him a mischievous smile.

Richard parked his car and opened the trunk. He took out a small cooler. George saw them and waved; Isabel was by his side. Seeing Anne and Richard together, she was a bit uneasy. For her, it was just odd seeing Anne so happy next to a man she dated more than a week.

George had bought a new van with the help from Ed’s in-laws, the Woodvilles. Although George never liked his sister-in-law, he did like his new van. He even humored Isabel that one day they will full up the van with their kids and dogs.

Later, Rob and Francis arrived. The six of them climbed into the van with Anne and Richard sit in the back.

“Annie, how about I sit in the back with you? Richard can help George with directions in the front seat,” Isabel suggested.

“Iz, I’m fine. Can’t you play the navigator role?”

“You know me, I’m the last person on earth who can use a GPS!”

Anne then tapped Francis on the shoulder. “Can you navigate for George?”

“Sure—“

“Francis, I’ll play the navigator,” Richard said and got out of the car. Isabel got out as well and sat next to Anne in the back while Richard sat in the front. Rob and Francis sat in the middle row. George drove off and Richard held the GPS.

“Annie, what’s in the cooler?” Isabel asked.

“Our snacks and dinner,” Anne replied. “We haven’t eat yet.”

She opened the cooler and pulled out a bottle of Mangosteen juice. “Can you hand it to Richard?” She asked Rob.

“Sure,” Rob took the juice and handed it to Richard. Richard opened the bottle and drank.

Meanwhile, Anne pulled out a bottle of Noni juice and started to drink.

“What is that?” Isabel asked.

“Something endorsed by Miranda Kerr,” Anne replied.

“You mean that hot Australian model who dumped Orlando Bloom?” Francis laughed.

“Hey, their separation is amicable mind you,” Anne scolded. “They have a son together.”

“Let me see,” Isabel took the bottle from her. “Noni juice…never seen one before.”

“It tastes wonderful,” Anne commented.

“Hey Anne, want to try Mangosteen juice too?” Richard asked in the front seat.

“No thanks, I’m fine with Noni.”

Hearing their conversation, George cleared his throat. His hand held on to the steering wheel tighter.

Throughout the ride, Richard chatted with George and gave him directions; Rob and Francis battled each other with games on their phones; Anne and Isabel sat quietly in the back, talked from time to time.

“Annie, how are you doing at work?” Isabel asked.

“Better than ever,” Anne said happily, taking out a chocolate Popsicle. She peeled off the wrap and started licking. “Richard, do you want something?”

“Sure.”

Anne handed him an apple. He bit into it while Anne continued to enjoy her Popsicle, licking and sucking. “How’s your apple?”

“Round and sweet. How’s your Popsicle?”

“Getting shorter and shorter,” Anne said while looked into the cooler. “Hey, you only had one apple? You know how much I like apples. Now you stole it.”

“I didn’t steal it. You gave it to me.”

“No, you stole my apple!”

“There are other fruits!”

“Fine!” Anne finished her Popsicle and fished out a banana from the cooler. “Hmmm, banana tastes better than apple.”

“Have you ever tried yogurt with a mix of apple and banana flavor?” Richard asked. “They are so good together.”

“Never had one before, but I would love to try,” Anne said, taking out a peeler and a cucumber. She handed a box of cherries to Francis and asked him to pass that to Richard as she peeled the cucumber. Richard placed a cherry into his mouth as Anne bit into the cucumber.

From the view mirror, George, Francis, Rob, and Isabel saw it all.

They acted as it was nothing.

Lastly, Anne took out a pomegranate and cut it in half. Again, she had Francis hand it to Richard.

They bit into it at the same time.

“Excuse me, I need to pull over,” George suddenly blurt out. “I need to take a leak.”

He stopped at Wendy’s. At once, George jumped out and ran into the bathroom. Rob, Francis and Isabel ran after him.

After they were gone, Anne gave Richard a grin.

Richard gave her a wink.

***

The movie went okay. It was “Iron Man 3”, which was something they all saw. During the movie, George sat in the back with Isabel. Richard sat in the middle row with Francis while Anne sat in the front with Rob. George and Isabel behaved themselves.

Finishing her Noni juice, Anne excused herself and went to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Richard said he needs to go too.

He went to the handicapped restroom and knocked.

“Yeah?” Anne answered from inside.

“White Rose defeats the Red,” he said the code word.

Immediately, the door was opened.

Richard slipped in and shut the door with his back with Anne kissed him hard. Locking the door, he nuzzled her neck while slipping his hands under her shirt.

A moment later, both dressed themselves. Anne checked herself in the mirror and noticed the bite mark on her shoulder. She decided to leave her hair down to cover that.

“You bit me so hard,” she teased.

“I believe Lady Anne would’ve appreciated that,” Richard teased her back.

Anne went to him and wrapped her arm around his waist and laid her heat against his chest. “Have I been good today?”

“You have,” Richard said. “You behaved yourself like a lady.”

“Do you like me being a lady or being a…seductress?”

“I could use both.” He inhaled her scent and then said, “We should get going. They are waiting for us.”

By the time they returned to the van, Mandarin was already defeated while Tony Stark trying to calm Pepper down.

“You two were gone for a long time,” Francis commented.

“There was a very long line,” Anne explained with a straight face.

***

After the movie, George drove back to his place. Richard and Anne went to Richard’s car; and Anne left with Richard. Francis and Rob left too.

Isabel watched as Anne gleefully got into the car with Richard.

“George, something is wrong!” She said nervously. “You know what day is today?”

“The 20th of May?”

“No! Today is Wednesday!”

“No, it’s Thursday at…1:45 AM.”

“But…oh…you know what I mean…Annie…she’s still with Richard!”

“Is that…a problem?”

***

Anne closed her eyes as Richard rubbed creams over the bite mark on her shoulder. Now he realized how deep his teeth sank against her skin and flesh.

“Richard, this record…of King Richard III and Lady Anne…is it authenticated yet?”

“I can’t tell you anything.”

“I hope they will authenticate it soon,” Anne whispered against his chest. “The world should know…”

“Anne, don’t you feel that you are doing him a disservice by revealing his private life to the world?” Richard questioned.

“Not when the world is already misled about his private life,” Anne argued. “Like if someone accuses you sleeping with…let’s say your sister, wouldn’t you want to reveal your happy marital life to counter against it?”

“That’s not even needed,” Richard said. “All I need to prove is that there is nothing going on between my sister and I. For one, my sister Meg left for college when I hit puberty. Second, she and I don’t see each other very often. If we ever see each other, she always brings her kids along so we never had the time alone together. That’s all I need to show. I don’t need to let the world know who I’m sleeping with.”

“But still, the world should know what a great, considerate husband he is,” Anne said. “I mean…I can feel everything Lady Anne felt, mentally and physically. She loves him, and he loves her.” She paused and then asked, “This isn’t the end, is it? Is there more?”

“Oh yeah, there’s much more,” Richard calmed her.

“Good,” she sighed in relief. “I want to know them all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case if you don't know, noni and mangosteen are among top 5 fruits to increase sex drive, along with pomegranate. 
> 
> Apples, banana, chocolate (brown) popsicle, cherry, and cucumber are all symbolize sex. Apple is the famous forbidden fruit. In this chapter, Anne accused Richard "stolen" her fruit while Richard insisted that Anne "gave him" her fruit.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. 
> 
> The fictional Bedford High School Volleyball Scandal in this fic is based on several sports/school scandal in this world; it is not specifically target at any state, town, or culture. 
> 
> Comments please!


	12. 9th Wednesday: My Lady, Come to me...

The “Bedford Volleyball Scandal” had become more complex than ever. It started when a fifteen year-old freshman passed out in math class. After hospitalized, the test results showed two weeks of pregnancy and gonorrhea. She was only three months shy of her sweet sixteen.

Her parents were outraged and horrified. The hospital contacted the police. Detective Thomas Stanley, the same man who called Anne the “youngest black widow”, was in charge of the case. With her parents by her side, the young teenage girl told Detective Stanley that she was sexually involved with a boy on the senior volleyball team. Initially she said that it was consensual; later she changed her mind and said that it wasn't.

Was it? Or wasn't it?

The truth was that she was not very sure.

On one hand, she was fully convinced that he is in love with her. On the other hand, she did remember that he offered her a drink on the night she lost her virginity. According to her, she felt _different_ afterwards.

The boy was immediately arrested; he was eighteen and was charged with statutory rape. It was through his testimony that the police learned about the scandal.

The boy told the police that the volleyball coach and the sport staffs had beers and wines with the entire senior volleyball team after the game on regular basis. While drinking, the coach and staff “taught” the players how to take a girl’s virginity in the most painless and most pleasurable way, saying that a real man bed a virgin at least once in his lifetime. He gave the police a list of names. Instantly, the police called every senior volleyball player to the station for questioning. It did not take long before they all confessed. There were some inconsistencies, such as type of alcohol they were drinking and the place where they drank. However, overall, it was the same story: alcohol after game and instructions to bed virgins from the coach and the staff.

The boys thought it was okay since the coach and staff permitted it and encouraged them. In fact, one of the staff even told the players that if they were to call the girl the day after they had sex and if she answers, then it is not rape. To these boys, worst case scenario was that the police would tell their parents and they would be grounded or had their car taken away. None of them realized that they were confessing a crime of rape and drinking underage. Regardless what age of consent in state of Massachusetts was—15 or 16—if drug were used, then it was rape even if their sex partner was over 18.

One thing for sure: the school system had zero-tolerance towards any drug and/or alcohol on school campus. Thus, by far, every senior volleyball player was suspended; and the volleyball coach and sports staffs were fired. On top of that, the coach and sports staffs were charged for distributing alcohol to minors. Drinking age was twenty-one.

Soon, more and more women and girls stepped up and told the press and the police that they dated a Bedford Volleyball player; on the night they lost their virginity, they were given a drink—whatever it was, it made them feel different.

Turned out it was Z-drugs, one of the most common date-rape drug in the United States.

Some girls said that they were afraid to tell their parents but they did told the school nurse, who told them it could’ve been sleep pills. The school nurse, who worked there for 25 years, made no comment other than she reported the incident to the high school principle.

Nothing happened after that.

No one called the police since there were no police records on this incident.

Two days later, the school nurse and the principle resigned from their position.

***

Richard kept a scrapbook of all the events. In his heart, he was fuming.

The town gave Anne a hell of hard time because of unfounded accusations of murder. She had no friend; her family was forced to relocate because of the harassment; and her house had to be repainted after they moved out. Yet, no one ever spoke a single word against the volleyball coach and the school staffs for this incident—even after a number of girls reported this to the school nurse, who in turn should’ve called the police. It wasn't just one girl—it was a number of girls. As school faculties and adults with conscience, they should’ve done something.

But nothing was done.

Based on what he learned, the volleyball coach, the school nurse, the principle, and most of the sports staffs had worked together in this school for many years. They were close like family. Psychologically, it was understandably difficult for them to believe or accept the fact that one of them could do something so outrageous to the point that they rather turn a blind eye and look elsewhere.

Then, for someone like Anne, who had a different background, was ruled guilty by the town of something she possibly did not do. Yes, the police were called, but the investigation came to nothing. There was not a shred of evidence against her. Still, she was ostracized and harassed even though she should be innocent until proven guilty. 

Sure, murder is much more dreadful than rape; but had that school nurse been the one who was accused of murders instead of Anne, it was hard to see that the school nurse would receive the same treatment Anne did.

***

Meanwhile, Richard was wondering what Anne was thinking regarding all these. Does she care?

Obviously, she did not want to talk about it; and she never brought it up to Richard. Maybe she talked about it with Isabel.

Or maybe not.

He sent her some texts and she responded.

At least, she was not having some crazy reactions to all this and running away again.

Richard could not stop thinking about her. From his perspective, Anne was an emotionally fragile and psychologically scarred person.

What if…her bad memories came back to haunt her?

What if…something even worse was done to her and no one knows?

To keep her mind healthy, Richard decided to make this upcoming Wednesday a little interesting.

Something that can prevent her from thinking about the painful past…

***

When Anne opened the box, it was another dress. She gleefully changed into it, and remembered no bra or panties. Then she got another text.

It was from Richard.

_Come to my place—but cannot use any technology or transportation that was not available during Middle Ages._

Anne raised an eyebrow. Wow, it was really getting authentic. Rubbing her chin, she tried to think how did people travel in Middle Ages. Horse, litter, donkey, mules, by foot, by boat…

So, in other words, cars, taxi, buses, bikes, and trains are out of question. As for boat, Anne recalled that there was a lake not too far away from Richard’s place. But still, nowadays, everyone uses speedboat. That was a technology of modern world.

Walking back and forth in her apartment, Anne wondered if she could walk to Richard’s place. Using Google map, she realized that it would take at least 2 hours and a half to get there. On one hand, it seemed too much for her to handle; on the other hand, it seemed like fun.

Throwing on a light jacket and wearing a pair of sandals, Anne walked out of her apartment and to Richard’s place. When she hit the street, she realized that in Middle Ages, there was no crossroads nor sidewalks. So, she walked on grasses.

After the grasses, she entered the woods and climbed the hill. She knew her way since most of the roads were built around the woods and hills.

But it was not too comfortable. Soon, her feet got blisters and were muddy; her legs and arms got cuts and mosquito bites; her hands were lacerated from brushing away the tree branches. By the time she got to Richard’s apartment building, her hair was disarray; she was sticky and sweaty; her hands and feet were covered with dirt and mud; her arms and legs were covered with bug bites; and her face was dirty as well. Since elevator was also invented centuries after Middle Ages, Anne decided to climb the stairs.

It took her more than three hours to get to Richard’s place.

She knocked on the door and Richard opened it. Before she could say a word, she clasped in exhaustion and fell into Richard’s arms.

Richard carried her into his bathroom.

There, a warm bath was already prepared with bath oils and sweetly scented candles.

Slipping the dress off her, Richard carefully placed her into the bathtub. He released her hair from her ponytail and started to wash her hair. Anne closed her eyes and enjoyed every moment when Richard washed and rubbed her. He was so gentle.

She was disappointed when Richard wrapped her in a towel and carried her to bed. Her eyes were half-closed as Richard rubbed aloe gels over the cuts, blisters, and bug bites on her arms, legs, hands, and feet. In her mind, she recalled that chapter from _Sunne in Splendour_ where Lady Anne traveled days and night in the cold weather to be with Richard of Gloucester days before King Edward IV decided to execute George Duke of Clarence. She couldn't imagine how exhausted Lady Anne had been.

She could only say that it was worth it because Lady Anne loved her husband.

And her husband loved her.

When he was with her, he was only her husband who loved her; not a royal duke or a military commander.

And what an attentive husband!

Anne opened her eyes and found Richard already undressed and climbed onto the bed.

“Don’t move, just lay there,” he whispered into her ear.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. The moved down to kiss her on the nose and then on the lips.

Then her throat. Then her breasts.

He caressed her body inch by inch with his lips. Suddenly, all the pain and fatigue from all that walking began to disappear. His hands and lips seemed to be magical—that they could cure all types of pain and discomfort.

Anne moaned in pleasure. It was warm, sweet, and gentle.

He entered her slowly, as if he feared that he could break her with his strong passion for her.

***

Now Anne was no longer tired; the bug bites were no longer itching; and the blisters on her feet were no longer painful. She buried her face in Richard’s neck and inhaled his scent.

“What’s on your mind?” Richard asked.

“Must I tell you?”

“Lady Anne does not keep secret from her Lord Richard, doesn't she?”

“No,” Anne replied softly. “I’m just…so touched to know how attentive King Richard was to his wife. He cares so much for her.”

“Don't all husband care for their wives?”

“Not in that time period,” Anne laughed. “You know there was a Lady Margaret Beaufort. She married to a man in his twenties but she was only about twelve. When her husband died, she was a heavily pregnant thirteen year-old. And she had the baby…with the medical treatment back then you can imagine how horrible it was. The baby lived and she lived but lost her mind.”

“Why can’t her husband wait until she became older?”

“Because marriage consummation seals the alliance between families,” Anne explained. “And life span was short; either you die in battle field or from plague. Basically, if you can breed, then breed. When Lady Anne married her first husband, she was only fourteen; when she married King Richard, she was about fifteen or sixteen. She had her baby a year or so after her wedding night. But she was still a young woman under eighteen. There is no record, but I can see that her first delivery could be hard and difficult and may have damaged her reproductive system.”

She stopped there and rubbed Richard on the shoulder.

“You are a journalist, Richard. So…can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You heard about the scandal at Bedford, right?”

“Yeah,” Richard stroked her hair, thinking carefully before replying.

“If you were to write an article about it, what would you say?”

“I don’t know,” Richard said slowly.

“Liar,” Anne teased. “You have your opinions.”

“I’d say it’s a tragedy,” Richard said.

“It’s not a tragedy,” Anne said, somewhat bitterly. “It’s a town full of idiots with no common sense.”

Richard said nothing to that. He held her and stroked her until she fell asleep.

He thought about the conversation he had with a woman he met on the train coming back from Bedford. He was reading that book _Sunne in Splendour_. That woman was sitting across from him and she recognized the book. She was about Anne's age. 

_“Excuse me,” she said. “This book you’re reading…can I see it for a second?”_

_“Sure,” he said and handed that book to her._

_She flipped through the book and then asked him, “Do you know Anne Neville?”_

_“Yeah,” Richard nodded. “Her sister is seeing my brother.”_

_That was the most honest and safest answer._

_“How is she doing?” The woman asked. “My name is Elaine and I went to high school with her.”_

_Unlike that waitress Lisa, Elaine seemed friendlier towards Anne._

_“She is doing well.”_

_Elaine let out a sigh. “I’m so glad to hear that. Did she give this book to you?”_

_Richard didn't answer, simply because he did not know how to respond._

_“It’s sad, really,” Elaine said. “Anne and I used to hang out when we were in middle school.” She took out a picture from her purse; it was a photo of Elaine, Anne, and another boy._

_That boy was the first boy who was with Anne and died on their first Wednesday together; the one who was found dead in the woods._

_“We had a lot of great time together, all three of us. And then Harry started to develop interest in Anne. The three of us, we didn't have many friends, not in Bedford. And then one day, Harry fell from the tree. Some kids at school spread rumors saying that Anne pushed him. That’s not true at all. Anne would never hurt anyone.”_

_“But why would they say that?”_

_Elaine shrugged. “Jealousy, I think. I mean, Anne was one of the first girls in school who had a boyfriend. I guess other girls weren't happy to see that.”_

_“What happened then?”_

_“Parents told their kids to stay away from her. Everyone, including the cafeteria staffs, was hostile to her at lunch. She was all alone. And then in high school, there was a guy who was interested in her. She tried to stay away from him, but he pursued her anyways. Things started to look better for her, until that night he drove home and died in a car crash. The police said that the cause of death is a mystery. The way I see it, that kid was on drugs. Because he is the town pastor’s son, I guess the authority just couldn’t look at the truth. So, they put all the suspicions on Anne; the police searched her house so many times. Nothing came out but Anne was totally crushed. Kids at school started to call her ‘Wednesday’s Child’. They even wrote a poem on a large poster and posted it by her locker.”_

_Yes, Richard remembered seeing that. At the time, he thought it was an English project. He would never guess it was an act of bullying._

_“That’s…that’s horrid,” he said in disbelief._

_“Anne’s parent battled with school administration for a long time, asking for it to be removed. But the school said it was art and there is no need to make a big deal of it. Her mom said that maybe they should move back to Rhodes Island; but her dad insisted to fight on. And he wanted Anne to learn how to stand up for herself. So they stayed in town. Then in our junior year, there was a British exchange student named Edward Lancaster. He met Anne in the school library; Anne loved being there. The librarian was nice to her. He was the one who gave this book to her. When junior prom came up, he asked her to go with him. Anne said no, but he insisted. He even had a dress for her. So, Anne gave in and they went to the prom. Finally she seemed happy but then…Edward and his family died in the plane crash that very night. They were heading back to England.”_

_Elaine looked at Richard; she was almost losing her voice._

_“The Nevilles, they left town afterwards?”_

_“Yeah…I never saw Anne again after junior prom. From local news, I saw the mob harassing her family. They were spreading paints at her house and calling Anne murderer as if they wanted to lynch her. Soon after, they moved away from Bedford.”_

Since the day he learned about her odd behavior, Richard guessed that it was a story behind it; a painful one.

And he was correct.

***

Since Bedford High School was closed, Richard didn't have to be in Bedford as much. He stayed at home and started to organize his notes.

Bill asked him to do an article on Anne; so he was going to. But there was going to be a twist to that.

He was going to compare Anne’s story to the current Bedford Volleyball scandal—to criticize the Bedford school system. Regardless of its culture, faculties and school staffs were supposed to be role-models and reasonable adults. Bullying, drinking underage, and statutory rape should not be tolerated under any circumstances. But, they allowed the students to bully Anne; they distributed alcohols to teenagers and taught them to date rape young women. When these incidents were reported to the school administration, nothing was done. It was not a matter of what was done, but who was involved.

And the result of the Bedford school system’s inefficiency and corruption was an emotionally scarred young woman who was haunted by the painful past to this day.

She wasn’t the only one.

The victims of the Bedford Volleyball Scandals—they would have a long way to go. There was nothing in this world that is more painful than being betrayed by someone you love and trust.

As Richard was writing his article, his phone rang. It was Isabel.

“Richard, is Anne with you?” Isabel asked in panic.

“No, she’s not here.”

“Annie hasn’t been at work for three days. I went to her place and she’s not there!”

“Hold on Isabel. I’ll be right there!”

Richard saved his work and bolted out his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess I touched upon another sensitive subject: bullying.
> 
> Bullying is a very serious matter in school systems all over the world. Unfortunately, not every school is handling it efficiently or effectively given that there are cases when victims committed suicide because they couldn't take it anymore.
> 
> Not every school system is perfect. But if you were to have a school system this corrupted, it's every student's and parent's worst nightmare because they are making bullying a particular an acceptable social norm. Basically, there was nowhere else to turn. For Anne's case, professionally the faculties and particularly the principle should've teach the students to stop treating her like that and allow the police to handle the case. But they didn't.
> 
> I don't know if the real Lady Anne Neville suffered any bullying in court before marrying Richard of Gloucester (when she was married to Edward of Lancaster and after her father died in battle). But if she had, it was highly likely that she'd had to suck it up because she was "a traitor's daughter". 
> 
> Comments please! I apologize if I make any reader uncomfortable. I believe bullying is something we can all relate to.


	13. 10th Wednesday: My Lord, How did thy find me?

At George’s place, Isabel was pacing back and forth; Richard was standing with his hands in pocket; and George was sitting in his couch with a phone in his hand.

“Richard, what did you do?” Isabel stopped pacing and pointed an accusing finger at Richard.

“Nothing,” Richard replied. “She was fine that last time I saw her.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” George asked.

“Last Thursday morning,” Richard said. “She was pretty happy.”

“Then where is she?” Isabel questioned. “She’s not in her apartment.”

“Is her stuff still there?” Richard asked. “If it is, then she’ll be back.”

Isabel let out a sigh. “The last time she did this, she took nothing with her. And she was found in middle of nowhere!”

“Then we should call the police,” George suggested.

“And what are you going to say to them?” Richard did not agree with George. “That a twenty-something year-old woman is not in her apartment for a couple of days. She is an adult for god’s sake! Not a kid!”

“She is an adult, but very unstable one,” George commented.

“George! No!” Isabel cried. “Anne is a normal person. You don’t know what she’s been through.”

“Normal people don’t run away like this!” George argued. “If she’s not unstable, then she’s irresponsible.”

“Okay enough!” Richard yelled. “Barking at each other here is not going to solve the problem. Isabel, you call your parents and your friends to see if Anne is with them. George and I will go down the police station to see if there’s anything they can do.”

“Why can’t we just call the police?” George asked.

“Honestly you think Anne’s case can be simply explained over the phone?”

***

George drove Richard down to the police station. Just as Richard had anticipated, the police did not take Anne’s case seriously at all. It was hardly surprising; Anne was an adult and had her right to go wherever she likes. George warned Richard not to talk about her emotional issues, whatever it was. Had the authorities know that, it would be very possible that Anne would be sent to a mental facility on court order. According to Isabel and Bill Hastings, Anne had done this more than a couple times. Each time the police and even FBI was involved in the search for her. That was a lot of resources used, or wasted.

That was enough reason for the court to rule her not mentally fit to live on her own.

The police told them to go home and wait for a couple of days; maybe she would show up then.

While leaving, Richard heard a detective mimicking Anne, “Since the creation of this universe…”

Either he was one of the men Anne dumped in her past Wednesday breakup fiasco or he oversaw more than a few cases on Anne’s multiple disappearances in the past.

***

George and Richard returned to George’s place. Isabel ran to them.

“Annie is not at our parent’s house,” she cried. “She is not home…she’s not at work…she is gone!”

“Izzy, calm down,” George went to hold her.

“No, I will not calm down!” Isabel cried and screamed. “My sister, she’s gone! I called her again and again, and she’s not answering the phone!”

Richard moved away from Isabel and rubbed his forehead. Anne did not present him a box or deliver that breakup speech. So, theoretically she wouldn’t pull that stunt. But where could she be? And why?

Last Wednesday, she walked through the woods, stepped on the grasses, and climbed the hills to get to his place. She was happy with what they did. Before she left, she was smiling and serving him breakfast. Nothing hinted that she would run away again.

Then Richard recalled that Anne did ask him about his opinions on Bedford Volleyball Scandal.

 _A bunch of idiots_ , she called the people of Bedford. She sounded bitter and hateful even.

He couldn’t blame her after learning what she had been through.

Could it be…that Anne went to Bedford? But for what?

Suddenly Richard remembered the news from last night. He took out his phone and checked the news again. Yes, the high school principle of Bedford High School, who resigned not too long ago, fell ill. At age 82, he was diagnosed with liver failure. It looked like he was not going to make it.

Maybe…Anne wanted to settle old scores?

With that in mind, Richard ran out of the door and went to his car. He hit the road and went to train station.

***

George and Isabel continued to bicker and argue, completely unaware that Richard was gone. When they realized it, their argument got even worse. George argued that Isabel was being unfair by blaming Richard for Anne’s disappearance; he insisted that Anne needed to be talked to about the troubles she caused others. Isabel said that Anne was impossible to talk to at times and had Richard not pursuing her, none of this would’ve happened.

“Izzy, how could you attack Richard like that?” George said, fuming. “Anne ran away by her own will. Richard did not do anything.”

“I told you to tell Richard to stay away from Anne!” Izzy yelled. “Anne has never fully recovered from her emotional scars in the past! She can’t handle relationships!”

“What was her story exactly?” George couldn’t be more frustrated. “A bad relationship? Being dumped? Nothing excuses irresponsible behavior as such! If she has emotional scars, then get therapy!”

“My sister does not need therapy! She only needs time—“

“Time? I think she needs more than just time!”

“Don’t think you know everything just because you have a doctorate! I am a teacher and I know how to deal with difficult children—“

“Anne is not a child!” George said. “She is an adult who should understand her responsibility and how her actions can affect others. Pointing fingers at other people is never going anywhere.”

“Okay fine, you know better. What should we do?”

“Let’s calm down first,” George suggested, trying not to raise his voice. “I’ll call Richard and see what he is up to. And then we’ll wait to hear back from him. Keep this in your mind, they are two adults. And when Anne comes back, which I sincerely hope, I will have a talk with her.”

“That’s not happening,” Isabel objected. “You don’t know her. I’ll talk to her.”

“And what are you going to say to her?”

Isabel said nothing.

***

Richard literally jumped off the train.

He looked around, just in case if Anne was heading back to New York. The train station at Bedford was fairly small and simple; and thus it was not difficult to spot a person. He looked at the billboard and found the next train back to New York was hours away.

Anne was not at the train station.

Good. She must be somewhere else.

Does she know where that old high school principle lives? Or maybe she went to the medical center nearby the town since he was so ill?

Richard went to both places. The principle’s house was empty; there were lots of well-wish cards and flowers on the doorsteps. Richard was rather disgusted after seeing that. He went around the house just in case Anne could be sitting somewhere waiting for the principle’s family to return. But no, she wasn’t there.

The next stop was the medical center. There was a long line of people who came to see and pay respect to the old principle. Perhaps it would be the last time. Richard ran back and forth to see if Anne is in the line. He then passed by these people and entered the medical center.

“Hey, you must wait in line,” a middle-aged woman rebuked him. “Are you here to see—“

“No, I’m not,” Richard replied, catching his breath. “I’m here to find someone. She’s medium height, slim, with light brown hair.”

“I have seen quite a few young ladies like that, so I can’t help you,” she said. “Since you’re here, would you like to sign a card for—“

“No,” Richard said coldly. “He doesn’t deserve my sympathy or respect.”

With that said, he left.

He went to his car and drove to Anne’s old house to see if she was there.

But she wasn’t.

Where could she be?

After a whole day of searching, Richard was totally exhausted. His phone was dying; and he hadn’t eaten anything for the whole day. So, he stopped by the first food place he saw—the town’s inn.

It was actually an old bar and a cheap motel combined together.

Richard stumbled in and looked around, hoping to find a plug in to charge his phone. He spot one in the corner and went to charge his phone.

“Excuse me,” he said to the girl whose chair was blocking his way.

That girl turned her face and they both became still.

It was Anne; she was here at this inn.

“Richard, what are you—“

Richard pulled her into his arm and held her tightly against his chest. A moment later, he pulled away to take a good look at her. Her hair was greasy; her eyes were red; her clothing was disarray.

“I tried, but they refused to give me a room,” she said, a little embarrassed. “People in this town are funny.”

“Come, I’ll take you somewhere else.” Taking her hand, he walked her out.

“Hey,” the cashier at the bar called after him. “It’s your life, but I’d stay away—“

“Go fuck yourself!” Richard spat.

He took her into his car and drove away.

***

He stopped at the train station. He got out of the car and went to her side to open the door for her.

“You are not going to leave your car here, are you?” She asked as she got out of car. “Generally it’s pretty safe here.”

Richard ignored her comment. Instead of replying, he got grabbed her by the wrist hard and dragged her behind him.

“What are you doing?” She shrieked. “Let me go! I have something to do tonight.”

“No, you have something to _explain_ tonight.”

He went into the station, dragging Anne behind him, and asked for two tickets back to New York. However, to his disappointment, there was no ticket available for the rest of the day. So they had to go somewhere else and wait for the first train in the morning.

Richard ruled out Arianna’s house because he needed for privacy tonight. With two kids running around the house, he wouldn’t be comfortable with what he would do tonight.

He took Anne to his car and used his phone to find the nearest hotel nearby the town. Anne was silent the whole way.

They stopped by a small hotel about ten miles away from the town.

It’s called Martin’s Hotel.

***

She stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her. Her hair was wet, but she was clean.

She walked to the bed and sat. She looked at her phone and found it completely out of battery.

“You have a charger?” She asked.

Richard handed his charger to her and Anne charged her phone. She didn’t seem to understand all the troubles she caused Richard and how she worried Isabel and George.

“What are you doing in Bedford?” Richard asked slowly. Now that he found her, he realized how much he was mad at her. How could she run away like this without telling Isabel? She ran away before and she should’ve known how much trouble it caused for other people. “You are not giving Isabel a call to let her know that you are okay?”

“I’m an adult and Isabel is not my keeper,” she replied.

“Then act like one!” Richard yelled, raising his voice at her for the first time. “How could you disappear from the face of the earth like that? All you need to do is dial your sister’s number, which is only one click and tell her that you’ll be out of town for a couple of days and you’ll be back in no time.”

“I don’t need to tell her everything I do,” Anne retorted back. “She overreacts.”

“Because she cares,” Richard lectured. “No one would worry about someone they don’t care about. Isabel is your very own sister; she cares if you are gone.”

Anne said nothing; instead she lied down in bed.

“Did you come here to find me?” She asked. “How did you know I’m here?”

“The last time we were together you mentioned something about Bedford and its scandal. You sounded upset; so I guessed that there’s a story behind it. After you were gone, Isabel called me. She was losing her mind and George was trying to calm her down. And I came to Bedford. I searched all over the town. I figured that you might come down here because the high school principle is dying—“

“A pity that he’s still alive.” Anne murmured while facing away from Richard.

Richard was a little taken back by that comment. Anne was the last person he expected to say something cruel as such.

“And I was right. You are here in Bedford,” he continued. “I went to that inn to charge my phone and to get something to eat. And interesting enough, I found you as well.”

“Why do you care?” She asked slowly. “You shouldn’t.”

“I don’t care,” Richard replied. “It just happened…in case you don’t know…Richard III was searching for Lady Anne when he came back from war. She was supposed be living with her sister and brother-in-law. He searched for day and night, until he found her in an inn.”

He got that from the novel _Sunne in Splendour_.

He lied down on the bed next to her.

“Did he?” Anne let out a weak laugh. “He found her and took her to sanctuary…what’s the name of that sanctuary…oh yeah, it was St. Martin le Grand…Lady Anne settled in there…and he visited her often…he stays for the night…he wouldn’t go all the way because he would not want her to conceive before marriage…so he held her and made her feel safe…”

She opened her towel and left her body bare for a second. Then she threw the towel away and climbed under the cover.

“Where are my clothes?” She asked suddenly, realizing her clothes were nowhere to be seen.

“I’m not going to tell you, unless you tell me why you are here,” Richard replied.

Anne sat up, covering her breast with the cover. “Why would you want to know? Tomorrow we will head back home.”

“It’s not me asking you; it’s King Richard asking Lady Anne,” Richard said. “He searched for her all over London. He was worried and he wanted to know of all the places, why she came here.”

Anne lied back down. “You would not think of me the same had I told you.”

“Try me.”

“I saw it on the news that the principle, or rather ex-principle, of Bedford High School is dying from liver failure. I have something to tell him before he dies.”

“What were you going to tell him?”

“That I wanted to see him before he breathed his last,” Anne said bitterly and sarcastically. “I would say, ‘You may not remember me, but I remember you. I was a student at Bedford High whom you failed. You gave me empty promises and made excuses for other students who bullied me. I don’t know either you are a pathetic idiot who can’t see the truth or a coward who fears to stand up for someone who is different. If you were to die today, then you are lucky; because if you were to live on, you will live to see your legacy falling apart piece by piece. You may deny it, but your conscience and guilt will haunt you as long as you breathe. People in this town used to call me a cursed child or a murderer. If you were to die before my eyes or within hours after I leave, I will not shed a single tear. Among the people whom I supposed to have killed, yours is the only death I’m happy with.’”

After a long silence, Richard asked, “Did you say that to him?”

“No,” Anne shook her head. “I planned to, but for some reason I couldn’t. I must be a very weak person.”

“No Anne,” Richard said gently. “You are stronger person; you are stronger than any one of them. You know it’s not worth it. He’s dying old man and he can’t change the past; neither can you. I don’t know him, but I can see that his conscience is punishing him. A man avoided to the hideous truth for so long, now it’s all coming back to haunt him. His old age and frail health…he’s not going to make it.”

“Now the world can see how ugly the town truly is,” Anne sounded victorious, but then she broke down and cried her heart out.

Richard watched as she cried. After she calmed down a bit, he pulled her into his arms and held her gently. “It’s all right Anne; it’s all in the past.”

Anne continued to weep until she was tired. “When can we go back? I want to get out of here and never come back again.”

“Tomorrow morning we’ll go home.”

Anne seemed to be satisfied with that. “Did you call George and my sister? Do they know that you’re here?”

“I called them when you were in the shower. They know that you’re fine.”

“I was going to come back in a couple of days. Izzy, she treats everyone like kids.”

He did not make love to her that day. He only held her in his arms to make her feel safe.

***

The next morning Anne and Richard took the train and headed back to New York. Before boarding the train, she gave Bedford one last look. In her eyes, was it hate? Or was it forgiveness? Or was it carelessness? Richard couldn’t decipher. He walked Anne back to her place.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Anne assured him before he left. “I buried old ghosts. I feel better now.

Richard went back to his place and continued his article at where he left off. His phone ran; and it was George.

“Hey George…yeah I’m back…don’t worry, she’s fine now…she was planning to come back…she’s back in her apartment…please tell Isabel to calm down…”

He hung up and stared back at his article.

He was almost done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please!
> 
> In case if you didn't notice, Richard found Anne in an inn and then took her to a hotel named "Martin". This is a parallel to the scene where Richard of Gloucester found Anne in an inn/cookshop and then took her to a sanctuary St. Martin le Grand.
> 
> By the way, what do you think of Anne in this fic by far?


	14. 11th Night: My Lady, thou must win thy prize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before posting this chapter, I just want to say that my heart goes out to everyone in this world who is affected by the crises that have been going on in Europe, Africa, and Asia. I understand that it can be an intense time for some of my readers, so I hope this chapter brings you some joy and amusement.

Anne seemed to be happier since her return from Bedford. She hadn’t talk about it with Richard, but she smiled more.

Richard had finished his article. He started the article with the description of Bedford High School, focusing on the poem “Monday’s Child” posted by student’s locker and on a novel titled _Sunne in Splendour_ sat on the school library’s shelf for more than eight years. The novel was not really the school’s, he wrote; it belonged to one of students. That student was the _Wednesday’s Child_ in the poem “Monday’s Child”.

He went on to describe the events happened to this _Wednesday’s Child_ , pointing out the incompetence of the town and county’s authority in crime investigation and the school system’s failure to do the right thing not only for _her_ , but for all students. Teachers and school system allowed students to take laws in their own hands by ostracizing this _Wednesday’s Child_ for something she did not do. When she was forced to leave school because of the bullying, she left something behind—a novel, a gift from rare person who was kind to her. Instead of sending it back to her, the school shelved it as its own property. To this day, faculties in the school still treated it as a cursed item. As result, no student dared to touch it. And thus, it sat quietly in the bookshelf in the school’s library for years.

This _Wednesday’s Child_ was not guilty of anything except for being an outsider who fared better than others. She was not born and raised in this town, but she lived in a bigger house and had a boyfriend at age 13. Faculties allowed the bullying because they agree with the students’ perspective, or at least apparently they do. What was exactly on their mind? That their town would sooner or later being invaded by outsiders and they would be ousted? To the point that they rather believe that a young innocent girl is capable of murder that was never proven?

Eight years later, the Bedford High School Volleyball Scandal was discovered. The scandal itself had happened for more than ten years. Again, faculties and school system did nothing. Why? Because they could not believe that one of their own could commit such a crime?

The two stories, the _Wednesday’s Child_ and the Volleyball Scandal, paralleled to each other—the town took the laws into its own hands and ruled its verdict with biases and prejudices; it was full of joker juries.

The consequences were tragic. This _Wednesday’s Child_ was emotionally wounded and feared to be close or trust anyone, including her family. She could not keep a steady relationship because she feared to allow the relationship to continue after its first Wednesday. She used an unusual way; she sought out the guy, wherever he is, and presented him with a breakup box. In the box, it contained all the items the guy left at her place. In her heart, she craved for love and care. However, her past experience continued to haunt her to the point that she was escaping from it and from herself.

Richard ended the article saying that the Wednesday’s Child by far is not the only victim of the town’s school system. All the victims of the Volleyball Scandal would have a long way to go to heal their emotional wounds. Nothing in the world is more painful that being betrayed by loved and trusted one.

He printed out his draft and had it ready to show it to Bill Hasting.

No, he did not print Anne’s name in the article.

And he had not tell Anne about it either.

***

He continued his Wednesday role-playing ritual with Anne. If he hadn’t sent her a box or any text, she would text him and asked. This Wednesday, the one after they came back from Bedford, Richard had forgot about their role-playing since he was so busy editing his work. His phone buzzed and buzzed. He checked his phone and found ten texts from Anne, asking about the role-playing and updates. Richard checked his calendar and then realized that it was Wednesday; and it was 7:20 PM.

It seemed like Anne got used to role-play on Wednesdays; if there’s nothing happening on Wednesday, she’d freak out.

So Wednesday went from “break up day” to “role playing day”.

He sent back a text, “Meet me at the metro station.”

In about twenty minutes, he was at the metro station and Anne was there waiting for him. He went to her and gave her his arm. Anne gleefully slid her arm into his. They got onto the metro and went into the Manhattan area.

He took Anne window-shopping.

“Pick one item that you really want, and it shall be yours,” he whispered into her ear after they climbed out of the metro station.

Anne glazed at all the luxurious items behind the countless windows and glasses. Jewelries, bags, jackets, dresses, watches, and shoes—all high brands. But she could only choose one.

She looked at one after another; they all looked pretty, but none of them seemed to be worthy to keep.

Then she stopped.

Her eyes were set on a turquoise necklace with a locket attached to its end; its design was slightly medieval. She wanted it for sure, but was a little discouraged when she saw its price. She turned to Richard, but finding him not there. Through the window glass, she saw him already in the store, speaking to the cashier. The cashier then walked to the window and took the turquoise necklace off the display.

Soon Richard walked out with a bag.

“Can I wear it now?” Anne asked excitedly.

“No,” Richard replied as he walked her back to the metro station. “Wait until later tonight.”

In the metro, Anne kept on looking at Richard. “Can I take a peek at it at least?”

“No,” Richard said evenly.

“Can’t I even touch it?”

“No.”

Seeing that Richard was looking away, Anne tried to sneak her hand into the bag. But Richard quickly moved the bag away before the tip of her fingers could reach it. When she tried it again, Richard grabbed her hand and held it hard in his. His unspoken words: behave yourself.

***

Once they returned to Richard’s place, Anne asked, “Can I wear it now?”

“No,” Richard replied. “If you want it, you have to earn it.”

“Earn it?” Anne raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“By getting me in the mood,” he said as-matter-of-factly. “When I feel like it, I will give it to you. Otherwise, you can’t touch it.”

With that said, he sauntered to his bedroom.

Anne went after him and found him lying on his bed. She sat on his bed and asked, “What can I do to get you in the mood?”

“You should know that by now,” he teased. “And by the way, my loin hurts.”

_Oh…he’s making a challenging…_

Anne got up and went out of his room. It was a long while before she came back with a tray. On it, she had a plate of fruits; apples, raspberries, strawberries, cherries, and pomegranates. And on top of that, there was a glass of fine wine.

With a fork, she started to feed him.

“How fares thy tarse?” She asked gently as he ate.

“What?” Richard was rather bewildered. Again, as many times before, he could not understand what she was saying.

“Thy tarse,” Anne repeated. “You told me that it was hurting. So how is it now?”

Now he knew what she was referring to. Tarse…what kind of word is that?

“It still hurts, but it’s getting better.”

As she wiping his lips and feeing him wine, she muttered, “There is no tarse more beautiful than yours.”

Hearing that, Richard choked on his raspberry and wine.

“My lord!” Anne rubbed him on the back and covered his mouth with napkin. After a long string of coughs, Richard managed to catch his breath. Anne went to the other side to remove his shoes. She then pulled down the covers to help him settled in bed.

“So, have I earned my prize?” She asked.

“What do you think?” He retorted. “You almost killed me!”

“I’m sorry,” she said semi-apologetically, trying to suppress her giggle.

“What is so funny?” Richard could tell she was trying to hide her giggles.

“Do you know how handsome you are when you are choking?” Anne said, a little seductively. “It makes me feel ticklish.”

“Nice try,” he said in a husky voice.

Tilting her head, Anne did some thinking. _What could she do to put him in the mood and the persuade him to give her that necklace?_

She got off the bed and turned the lights off, leaving on the oil lamp.

She started to undress, slowly removing her clothes piece by piece with her shadow on the wall.

Wearing only her lingerie, she climbed on top of him.

She bent down to kiss him on the lips. Then she pulled his shirt over his head and kissed his upper torso inch by inch.

Richard moaned in pleasure.

“How fares thy tarse now?” She asked, as her lips caressed his stomach.

“Getting better, but still not well,” he said. “Perhaps it’d be better if you are on top today.”

Anne stopped kissing him. “But that’s against the rules!”

“What rules?”

“The rules of church!” Anne rose and folded her arms. “Richard, I’m starting to have some suspicions here. Richard of Gloucester is a man by the church rules and how could he do something so outrageous and forbidden by the—“

“And how many times had he repent his sins and donated moneys to the church?” Richard questioned her. “He is a human being and I’m sure that after so many times on the horseback he’s loin would’ve hurt or at least felt uncomfortable at least once a while. Now think logically…”

Anne bit her lips and then nodded her head.

_It makes sense…Richard III was a horseman and a warrior…woman on top was forbidden by the church…but there were always ways to repent their sins…understandably the Popes and their “nephews”…_

Anne decided to question him no more. She undid his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers. Then she reached to her back to remove her bra as Richard sat up to pull down her panties.

“I…I…never tried this position before…” She muttered as she kicked away her panties.

“Come here,” Richard said as he guided her to straddle him, pulling her legs apart and had her sitting on his crotch.

She rode him slowly at first, but then started pick up the pace. She inhaled deeply as Richard stroked her sides and belly.

This position gave her control and a new type of pleasure.

She liked it.

Screw the rules! A day in hell is a worthy exchange for a night like such!

She threw back her head and closed her eyes. She could feel his hands on her breasts. She ran her fingers through his dark curls after he rose to nuzzle her breasts.

She gasped when he pushed her down and climbed on top of her. Adjusting their positions, he thrust into her, hard, as her nails dug into his back.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Richard,” she whispered as he thrust into her.

“Tell me you want me.”

“I…I want you Richard.”

“Am I the best?”

“Yes, yes you are…Richard…you are the best…the best in the world…you are the King…”

Hearing that, he seemed to be satisfied. Panting heavily, he rolled off her and reached out to open the drawer of his nightstand.

He fished out that turquoise necklace. Brushing her hair aside, he put the necklace on her neck.

“I thought your loins hurt tonight so bad that you can’t even do it on top,” Anne commented while playing with the locket attached to the necklace.

“It _was_ hurting, but you fixed it.”

“You have scissors?”

Richard opened his drawer and found a pair of scissors. “What are you going to do?” He asked as he handed it to her.

Anne took a small strand of his black curls and cut it off. She opened the locket and put that lock of hair inside.

“There, this shall never leave my heart.” She said as she brought the locket to her lips.

“Did you just ruin my hair?” His dark curls were certainly not easy to maintain. One missing lock can destroy the entire look.

“No,” Anne laughed as she ruffling his hair. “It’s fine.”

“Liar,” Richard snarled as he pulled her back down. Moving her hair away, he leaned down to suck her nipples.

He made love to her again. This time with the locket between their bodies.  

***

The next day, Richard met with Bill to present his article for him to review. Looking over the article, Bill seemed to be absorbed and then asked him, “I don’t see her name printed in this article.”

“That’s not needed,” Richard explained. “The description of her actions in the article and her reputation around here and there, we know who we’re talking about.”

“You seem to be very protective of her,” Bill remarked as continued to look over his article. “Pity and tragic…it’s like dominoes. One person’s mistake led to horrible consequences of many. Very good Richard.”

“So…”

“Congratulations you got your promotion,” he shook his hand. “We’re going to enter this article to for the next Pulitzer Prize nomination. Beautiful work.”

“Thanks.” Richard smiled.

“By the way, if you don’t mind me asking, are you still with her?”

“That’s private,” Richard replied, felt a little offended with him asking that. “Are you still holding a grudge against her because of your son?”

“No,” Bill shook his head. “I admit that I do blame her for what happened to my son. But, a couple of weeks ago, my wife fell in the kitchen and broke her hips. Willy was in the living room, hearing her crying for help. He was so large that he could hardly get off the couch and reach for the phone. Thank goodness that a neighbor came by.” He stopped and chuckled. “My wife is fine now but needs hip replacement. But it was a wake-up call for my son. He realized that he needed to move on…wasting his life on the couch does him no good. So, he’s now off the couch and joined Weight Watch Program. Then in this fall, he will enroll himself in the community college and finish his degree.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Richard said. “So you are not mad at her anymore.”

“I forgive her,” Bill said genuinely. “And after reading your article, all I can say is poor kid. Sometimes I wonder what is the point of having a school system or authority when they are that incompetent. I believe this article can help all of us to move on.”

“Thanks.”

“As for _her_ ,” Bill was still not comfortable to say her name. “My suggestion to you is to be careful with her. Now I don’t know how you managed to keep her by your side for so long, but remember, she is an emotional fragile person. Don’t get yourself stuck in the bedroom.”

“Excuse me?”

“In the bedroom—you never saw that film, have you? Sissy Specek and Marison Tomei. It’s referring to a lobster trap that can only hold up two lobsters they begin to turn against each other.”

Richard said nothing to that and left Bill’s office.

In the bedroom…him and Anne indeed!

For once, he wished that he listened to his brother Dr. George York PhD, DNP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "In the Bedroom" is a 2001 film starring Sissy Specek; it'a about a couple who lost their son but the killer could not be convicted due to lack of evidence. It gives an intense and emotional depiction of what the couple had to go through.
> 
> Comments please! I hope this chapter is smutty and funny for you.
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> PS Now I'm on tumblr feel free to shoot me a prompt.
> 
> And FYI - tarse is a medival slang for penis.


	15. The Friday After

Richard’s article was released the very next day, Friday, in _New York Times_. It was a major hit.

And it did stir some controversy at the very least.

 _New York Times_ is a very well-known daily newspaper in the United States, winner of 112 Pulitzer Prizes. Some people read it from newsstands while others, particularly younger people, read it online. For Bedford, however, it came a little slow; given that 50% of households didn’t have internet and 90% of people didn’t care for any newspaper other the ones of their own town, they’d probably not realize the impact of that article until much later. Already, the article had called the attention on America’s school system—how they handle bullying issues and how trustworthy are the faculties. One news anchor even pointed out that young people today are not like in the past where they obey or even worship their teachers; because of social media, the gap that separate teachers and students became narrower. Thus, many students, particularly high school students, view teachers as their equal and/or as paid workers who do their jobs. With the Bedford Volleyball Scandal hit the national news, it’d be hard to imagine how it can influence the teacher-student relationship in the near future.

Another factor that called to readers’ attention was Bedford’s culture. A small town isolated in the rural area of Massachusetts, it had followed its own rules and social norms for decades to the point that it almost lost touch with rest of the country. A news columnist responded to Richard’s article by comparing Bedford to Salem, referring to the Salem Witch Trials. People are condemned not for what they did, but for who they are and with whom they rubbed the feathers with.

Overall, many applauded the article.

Obviously, it would be a front-runner of the next Pulitzer Prize.

***

Friday evening.

Anne went to a café to meet up with Isabel. Her sister called her and insisted that they should meet for a coffee date. Anne was not too interested at first, but Izzy pressed on. After a few phone calls and many texts, Anne gave in. Grumpily, she expected Isabel wanted to talk to her about her “issues”. Isabel, the elementary school teacher, never treated her like an adult. In Anne’s mind, Isabel is a preacher who advocates this non-existing ideal world where everything would be okay.

What does Isabel know about her past? She was away in college when Anne was in high school.

Her past was not something that can be fixed over a cup of coffee or a bowl of soup.

When Anne arrived to the café, Isabel was already there.

“Izzy,” Anne greeted not too happily.

“Annie,” Isabel greeted back, using her teacher-tone.

“Lay out the cards, what do you want to say this time?” Anne sat and folded her arms.

“You and Richard, are you…together?” Isabel asked not too easily.

“No,” Anne replied without a hesitation. “And that is none of your business.”

“Yes, it is,” Isabel insisted. “I’m your big sister and I have to look after you—“

“Which you don’t need to,” Anne retorted. “I can take care myself.”

“Fine, then,” Isabel changed the subject. “George’s mom is coming to town and I’m going to meet her for the first time. In case if you’re interested, we’re to be engaged soon.”

“Congratulations,” Anne said carelessly.

“Anyway,” Isabel shrugged off her sister’s rudeness. “If there’s nothing going on between you and Richard, then I have nothing to worry about. I want to invite you when George’s mom coming to our place for dinner. Richard will be there as well.”

“Trust me, nothing awkward will happen.”

“Really?” Isabel was not buying it. “You know why George’s mom is coming?”

“To see her sons?”

“No, Richard just released a news article, front page in _New York Times_. His mom is flying here to see him.”

“So Richard is stealing George’s light.” Anne laughed.

“By the way, are you okay with that article?”

“What article?”

“The one by Richard,” Isabel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you read _New York Times_?”

“No,” Anne shook her head. “I don’t care for _New York Times_. In case if you don’t know, I have an intensive research project to do and taking over two classes where my ex-boss left off—“

“Annie, what’s that necklace you’re wearing?” Isabel suddenly noticed. “Let me see.”

“No!” Anne backed away. “This is something very special to me.”

“Is it real turquoise?”

“Yeah,” Anne replied.

“Where did you get this?”

“Downtown Manhattan.”

“How could you afford this?” Isabel questioned. “Is this from Richard?”

After a moment of silent denial, Anne nodded her head. “Yes, he bought it.”

“You…Annie! You just told me that you and Richard are not an item, but here’s the evidence of your lie!”

“I did not lie!” Anne defended herself. “It’s not what you think. Richard and I, we are doing a special project together; and that is all. I have been helping him with this…secretive journalist thing he’s working on.”

“So you and him worked on that article together?” Isabel raised an eyebrow.

“Not really, it’s his project basically. I’m only there to…you know…help him in one way or another based on my background. I have no input in his writing.”

“And why did he buy you that necklace?” Isabel was not too comfortable with that. “Did he buy you in with that thing?”

“It’s rather complicated,” Anne stuttered. “He bought it a few weeks after we worked together. It’s sort of a symbol of unity and healing.”

Isabel rolled her eyes and decided to let it go.

“But you know, that article you helped Richard with, it might be the next Pulitzer Prize winner.”

“Really?” Anne’s eyes brightened. “For real?”

“Yes, George told me.” Isabel looked at her and added, “George is a little worried about your reaction.”

“Worry about what? That I’m getting too excited?”

“Annie, I know that you probably feel this is something long overdue, but I just don’t want Richard to us—“

“I don’t care!” Anne laughed out loud. “You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment. Finally, it’s happening! At last, I can sleep at night!”

She continued to laugh. Isabel hadn’t see Anne laughing like this since high school.

“So, Annie, have you thanked Richard for that necklace?” Isabel asked, like mother to an immature child. “It looks quite expensive.”

“Why should I thank him?” Anne’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not that he bought it for me.”

“Then for whom he bought it for?”

“It’s something that Lord Richard gave to Lady Anne.”

Now Isabel could not be more confused. She could only assume that “Lord Richard” and “Lady Anne” are the nicknames they had for each other; just like George called her “Istanbul” and she called George “Georgia” (a country next to Russia). Every night, they wondered how one travel from “Georgia” to “Istanbul”.

“Annie, go do something nice for Richard. When someone gives you something, whatever the reason, you should give something back. Or at least, do something for him.”

“Okay,” Anne agreed, so that she could get Isabel off her back.

***

Meanwhile, George was busying calling patients back and updating their prescription and lab results. Finally, when he was done, he checked his phone. Izzy had texted him, assuring Anne was fine and in fact she is jubilant about the article. George texted back: _good to know_. Isabel then replied: _she and Richard worked on it together_. George responded: _that’s actually very therapeutic for her_.

He could breathe easier now.

His mom, Cecily York, was a psychiatrist, columnist, and author. She came from a family with a strong gene pool of writers; two of her brothers were New York Bestselling authors. On her husband’s side, it was a family of medical geniuses. Her husband, the late Dr. Richard York Sr, was a heart surgeon. Of her three sons, she worshipped Ed for being a cardiologist; and she was proud of Richard for inheriting her writing skills. That left George in the middle. Compared to Ed, he came up short for being a “nurse” even though he had two doctorates. He did research in psychology, but was never Cecily’s equal. Whenever his mother was around, it was always “oh, Edward” or “ah, Richard”.

But nothing for George.

When Cecily called George earlier that day, he was quite excited to inform her of his steady relationship with Isabel. Yet, his mother would hear none of it, saying that she is flying to New York to see Richard and to congratulate him about his soon-to-be Pulitzer Prize winning article.

“I read Dickon’s article and I couldn’t help but cried ten times,” she told George emotionally. “This…this is a master piece. Oh I know my little Dickon has inherited the genes from his great-grand uncle!”

“Mom, Richard is a grown man and he does not like to be called _Dickon_ for at least 18 years,” George reminded her.

“A mother’s privilege,” she snorted. “By the way, I need a place to stay so I hope you don’t mind if I can lodge at your place.”

“No-can-do!” George refused. “Isabel and I are moving in together in a new place. We can’t—“

“Moving in together before marriage! George, do you know how many psychiatric studies say…” She went on and on until George stopped her and reminded her that he’s a psychologist as well.

“Why don’t you lodge at Richard’s place? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind about all the love and attention you’d shower him!” With that said, he hung up.

***

Settling in his new office, Richard did not feel too victorious, however. Yes, he did write that article and the outcome was good. But something was missing.

He wondered from time to time what to do on next Wednesday.

Bill pointed out that he and Anne are sort of “in the bedroom”, where they are trapped together until one turned against another. He was not too far off from the truth. The article aside, the whole “sex life of Richard III” was a big problem. What is he going to tell Anne? That the whole thing was unauthentic? He was afraid to tell her because it’d break her heart and spirit.

And he was afraid to lose her.

Maybe he was in love with Anne.

Whatever the truth, he felt uneasy to tell her that there’s no discovery of that dead king’s sex life.

Or maybe he should continue for sometimes. For one, he was enjoying those Wednesdays with her; and for two, history authentication could take a long time, like decades. And how long have Richard III married? Twelve to thirteen years; with 365 days a year that means 4,380 nights at very least.

Well, this could go on and on, until he found the right time to tell her.

***

Anne paced back and forth in her apartment, thinking.

_Do something for Richard…do something for Richard…_

What could she do for Richard in return?

She still hadn’t looked up for that article by Richard, not yet. Simply, she wanted it to be a special moment for her, where Richard would show her and read it to her.

She thought about buying something for Richard, but what does he like?

She was thinking about Richard York, not Richard III.

A gift care to local salon for his dark curls? A new suit? A new tie?

Then she remembered something…his apartment.

It was messy, or at least not too orderly.

Clapping her hands together, Anne knew what to do.

She was going to sneak into his apartment and clean it up for him. She would surprise him with a new scrubbed, clean apartment.

***

As Richard sat on his couch, watching soccer game, his phone rang. It was George.

“Hey Richard, bro, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“You do now. You are picking up mom from JFK Airport, bye!”

“Whoa! Wait a minute! Mom is coming to New York?”

“Yes, indeed. She’s coming here to congratulate you on your Pulitzer Prize winning article!”

“Where’s she staying in New York?”

“At your place.”

“What?” Richard rose. “Why? My place is not for two!”

“Richard, Isabel and I are moving in together. So please have some mercy on your favorite brother!”

“How is Mom staying with me going to help Ed?” Richard mentioned Ed intentionally to piss George off.

“Richard, Mom is staying with you and no question! You are picking her up from airport JFK tomorrow or else, she’d be there on her own.”

He hung up.

Richard was certainly not happy to hear that. Cecily was someone who talk, and talk, and talk as if no one in this world has an IQ over 100. She looked down at Ed’s wife for being an LPN, and lectured Ed for hours for not encouraging her to become an RN. She ignored George and refused to acknowledge his doctorate because it was not a medical doctorate. To Ed, she smothered him with all the praises. To Richard, she annoyed the hell of him with her views on his articles, as if the world is full of crazy people except for the Yorks.

Now she was coming here to stay with him.

For how long?

Hopefully not until Wednesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this is silly or stupid.
> 
> Comments please!
> 
> I can't wait for spring and the end of snow storms. 
> 
> And I love Richard and Anne.


	16. Saturday wait...

“George, this is the fifth time you wiped that table!” Isabel said in frustration. “If you do that again, then you’ll ruin it!”

“Izzy, please! You know that my mom is coming to town,” George replied while wiping the table for the sixth time. “She’s going to give me a hell of hard if she sees one spot—“

“Come on, she’s at least 50 years-old.” Isabel shook her head. “Her eyesight can’t be that sharp.”

“Iz, you don’t understand. This is my mom, Dr. Cecily York. She’s a famous psychiatrist in Chicago and she’s unpleasant at times to say at the least.”

“So she’s like Howard’s mom?” Isabel laughed, referring to Howard’s mother from the TV show “Big Bang Theory”.

“Oh no, she’s not like Howard’s mom; she’s gentler in comparison.”

“Fine, then Leonard’s mom.”

“No, she’s more like Sheldon’s mother.” George wiped the table for the 7th time. “But the better description is she’s Dr. George York’s mother.”

“Why are you still seeking her approval?” Izzy shook her head. “You are a grown man with two doctorates and two jobs. You are a NYU alum; Columbia University invited you as a special speaker—“

“But there’s also Ed, a cardiologist and Harvard graduate, like Dad. Mom valued him like a diamond.” George said. “Just be aware, when she arrives, try to smile and don’t let her words bother you.”

Isabel, however, wasn’t on the same page with George. She had something else on her mind.

“By the way,” Isabel sounded a little nervous. “Does she know that we are living together soon?”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” George said not too excitedly. “I opened a can of worms.”

“She’s not happy to hear that, does she?”

George decided to not to say anything, but then he noticed her tone. She sounded funny.

“Izzy, is there something you need to tell me?”

“Why do you think I have something to tell you?”

“Because you are asking question in response to my question,” George pointed out. “I’m a psychologist and you can’t fool me.”

“Well, I’m—“

Before Isabel could finish, George’s phone rang. It was Richard.

“Hey George, I have good news for you!” Richard said in a rather cheerful tone. “Mom’s plane got delayed.”

“Yes!” George jumped in the air.

“But before you get too happy, there’re two things she like me to tell you. One, she’s going to stay at your place to get to know Isabel and two, her final destination is in Philadelphia Airport and we have to go get her.”

“What? What do you mean by _we_?”

“ _We_ as you, me and Ed.” Richard said sarcastically. “Mom says that us three brothers need to spend some quality time with her to have a mother-sons moment before we all settled down.”

“When is she going to arrive to Philadelphia?”

“Tomorrow Sunday.”

“Oh great, that’s three hours of driving.”

“No, it’d be six hours – back and forth.”

George hung up and looked at Isabel. “Exactly as I expected, Mom is staying here. Now, what was that you’re going to tell me?”

***

Saturday afternoon was refreshing for Richard, especially after he learned that Cecily will not flying in today. To enjoy his decent afternoon, he went out jogging. When he came back, he surprisingly found Anne standing by his door, with a large bag in her hand.

“Anne?” Richard asked, eyeing the large bag. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in first?” Anne seemed to be a little nervous. “I need to talk to you.”

Now this sounded strangely familiar. Had this happened before?

“Sure,” Richard opened the door and Anne followed him in. She threw down her bag and muttered, “Since the creation of this universe, humans have formed their society. Together, they built houses and carts; they invented wheels…”

She went on and on and on.

Then suddenly it hit Richard.

Wasn’t Anne used to do this on Wednesdays with a break up box? But today was Saturday and she had a bag instead of a box.

So what happened? Had she found out the discovery Richard III’s sex life was bogus? Maybe she realized that she has been with him for weeks and freaked out?

As Anne continued to talk, Richard interrupted her. “Anne, why don’t you sit down and have a drink? Diet coke?”

“Sure,” Anne nodded and sat. “Diet coke would be nice. And no ice please.”

Richard handed her a can of diet coke and grabbed a bottle of water for himself. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” she shook her head, sounded very downbeat. “I’m moving out.”

“You’re leaving?” _Again?_

“Yeah, I don’t have any choice,” she murmured. “But before I go, I need to see you and—“

“Wait!” Richard stopped her before she could continue. Looked like she was going to disappear from the face of the earth again.

Anne looked strangely at him. “Yes?”

“Since you’re here already, why don’t I show you something in _there_ ,” he said suggestively and took her hand.

“Okay,” Anne agreed without a hesitation. She knew what he meant.

***

But he did not take her to his bedroom. Instead, he took her to the bathroom to shower together. After all, he just came back from jogging and he was sweating all over.

He turned on the shower and started to undress. As he removed his shirt and shorts, he heard Anne turned the shower off. Instead, she started to fill up the bathtub.

“There is no shower in the Middle Ages,” she pointed out. “There was only bath.”

Richard decided not to argue.

After the bath was filled, Anne started to undress.

“Allow me, my lady,” Richard whispered as he pulled her shirt over her head and unbuttoned her shorts.

A moment later, they lied in the bathtub together with their body intertwined. Water was all over the bathroom floor. Considering he was sweaty and dirty from his exercises, like how Richard of Gloucester would’ve been after returning from the road, Anne insisted on having him washed and cleaned first.

And she used soap instead of bath gel, because there was no bath gel in Middle Ages.

Feeling her hands rubbing his body and her breasts bouncing and nipples pointing, Richard lost control and took her, _hard_.

Thank goodness that bathtub was wide enough for that.

“I scratched your shoulder,” Anne whispered against his neck. “You took me too hard.”

“Did you?” Now he started realize the pain on his shoulder; and it felt hot too.

“Are you going to punish me, my Lord husband?”

“Of course,” he replied. He rose from bathtub and carefully stepped into his flip flops nearby since the floor was so slippery and wet. He threw on his bathrobe and then grabbed a large towel. “Get up.”

Obediently, Anne stood as he wrapped the towel around her and then carried her into his bedroom.

He placed her in his bed. “Don’t move,” he ordered.

“I shall not.”

He went to his drawer and fished out a long white strap. He dropped his robe and climbed onto the bed with the white strap in his hand.

He took her hand and tied the white strap around her wrist. Soon, Anne found herself tied to the bed with her arms over her head. She took a deep breath as Richard pulled away the towel. He leaned down as if he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead, he moved down and teased her skin by his hot breath and the tip of his tongue, inch by inch. Anne could hardly lie still.

It got worse when he did that to her inner thighs. Anne arched her back and her arms struggled against the bounding.

“Shh! Be good,” Richard rebuked her as he tickled her feet.

Anne started laughing. “Please…stop!”

Seeing her like that, Richard was more than aroused. He pulled her legs apart and thrust into her. He penetrated her so hard that the headboard was banging against the wall, burying the sound of their moans and panting. Finally, after reaching climax, he pulled out of her and released her from the bound. As Anne was rubbing the wrists, which were red from the bounding, she gasped as Richard grabbed her by the waist and threw her onto his lap.

He spanked her, three times.

“What is that for?”

“You scratched me on the shoulder and the scar is up to my neck. It’s summer time and anyone can see it.”

“It’s still spring, for one. And two, you can cover it up with band aid.”

“My mom is coming to town and I have to go pick her up at the airport. She sees it and she is going to comment.” He released her from his grip and lied down on his back.

Anne lied down next to him. “Just tell her that you had a little accident.”

She was about to remind him that he had bit her on the shoulder as well and she had to lay her hair down to hide it. But then again, men and women were not equal in Middle Ages. Luckily, thanks to the fashion and customs of the time, hickeys, bit marks, and scratches could be hidden by the shirts, doublets, dresses, and veils. Then again, in summer time, it must’ve been very hot to wear these customs.

“I got evicted,” Anne said quietly.

“What?” Richard turned his head after hearing that.

 “I just told you: I got evicted.”

“What happened? You’re behind your rent?”

“No.” She was a little embarrassed and pulled up the cover to hide her face. “I got into an argument with my apartment complex’s manager. Long story short, I accidentally spilled hot coffee on his…typical spot in the heat of argument and he…ended up going to the hospital since that spot is very sensitive for you men.”

Richard nearly burst out laughing. “You burned his dick? He’s not suing you, is he?”

“No, fortunately. But I got kicked out.”

“So, are you going to tell your sister?”

“Heck no!” Anne freaked out at the thought of that. “You know how overbearing she can be. Please don’t tell her about this.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Can I stay here until I find somewhere to live?”

“No, no way!” Richard abruptly refused.

“What? Why?” Anne was not expecting that. “I’m not going to take much of your space. Your place is a mess and I can help you clean this up. I’m not asking to move in with you, but merely staying for a few days until I can find a new apartment.”

“Anne, my mom is coming to town,” Richard reminded her.

“Oh Izzy already told me.”

“She’s an interesting person.”

“So am I.”

That was not too far away from the truth. But, imagining Anne and Cecily sitting together face-to-face, Richard felt his world is turning against him.

“Is she going to stay here?” Anne asked.

“No, she’s staying with George—“

“Then what’s the issue?”

“Anne, please act your age,” Richard’s patience was running thin. “I’m sorry you got evicted and I love to help you. But with my mom in town and if she sees you here, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Well, tell her you hired a housekeeper or a maid,” Anne suggested. “I can help you around this place and in return, you give me your couch to sleep on.”

“Anne—“

“Please! Pretty please!” She begged. “Didn’t you just release an article, front page _New York Times_? I haven’t seen it yet, but Izzy told me that it’s a front runner for the next Publisher Prize. With all these things going on, it makes sense for you to upgrade your lifestyle a bit.”

Publisher Prize, she meant to say “Pulitzer Prize”.

“You are okay with the article?” Richard asked carefully. Although he did not print her name in the paper, but she would’ve known who the “Wednesday’s Child” is.

“Okay with it? I’m thrilled!” She moved over the rest her head against his chest. “I have waited for this day for so long!” She then rolled on top of him and said excitedly, “Richard! Think about it. Until I find my own place to live, I can stay here and help you around. Then at night, you can show me all the love between Richard III and his Lady Anne. And…the night before I leave your place for good, you can read that article to me. I don’t want to read it myself, I want to hear it from you. Wouldn’t be a perfect ending to all of these passionate nights?”

Richard found it rather odd.

Who would’ve wanted to read an article about bullying and sex scandal after hot sex?

But he knew Anne – she was not going to let it go until he says yes.

“Fine then. You can stay here until you find a place to live.”

“Yes!” Anne happily rolled off him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy that it feels like spring again. Daylight Savings Time is more refreshing to me.
> 
> Comments please! 
> 
> Do you see the twists embedded in this chapter?
> 
> PS American TV show "Big Bang Theory" is about four nerds with high IQ but socially awkward and their lives dealing with all kinds of drama. The four main characters: Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Rajik - all have unpleasant mothers (well Rajik's mom is okay compared to the other three). Go see it yourself.


	17. Sunday always come too late

George and Ed waited patiently for Richard.

It was five o’clock in the morning. George had suggested leaving early to avoid the worst traffic. He took his van—the same van he drove himself and the gang to see the drive-in movie not too long ago—and picked up Ed from his house. Now they were at Richard’s apartment complex.

“What’s taking him?” George mumbled as he dialed Richard for the third time.

Ed shrugged. “You did tell him that we are leaving at 5?”

“I did, more than enough,” George said. “I wonder what’s taking him so long.”

Finally, Richard ran out from his apartment building and went straight to George’s van.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and sat in the back. He was tired and a little cranky. “Why are you taking the van?”

“Because Mom will bring her large suitcases of books,” George said. “You know her. And you really want to sit in a compact car with her?”

“So who’s driving when we’re heading back?” Ed asked.

“You!” George and Richard answered in unison.

“What? Why?” Ed did not like the idea. Although he was Cecily’s golden boy, Ed found Cecily’s love and praises overbearing.

“You are her favorite son,” Richard said.

“But she’s flying here to see you, Mr. Pulitzer Prize winner.”

“Don’t start with me,” Richard grumbled as he closed his eyes. “I’m not in the mood.”

“What happened to you?” Ed turned around and looked back at Richard. His hair was messy and dark rings were under his eyes.

“Don’t, I need some sleep.”

Within a few minutes, he was snoring.

Of course, he would not tell his two full-blooded brothers what happened earlier on. Either they’d laugh their butts off or they’d use it to blackmail him.

***

Last night, he and Anne enjoyed their time together as Richard of Gloucester and Lady Anne of Warwick. Anne pretended it was the situation where Richard of Gloucester stayed at Middleham Castle for the season. As soon as the night fell, she acted as obedient as she could to please him. Richard found it amusing.

“Why do you like my teats?” Anne asked as she played with his curls; Richard was nuzzling her breasts and licking her nipples.

“Because they are beautiful, and tasty,” he replied and gently bit her breast. Anne gasped in pleasure.

“Careful, they are sensitive areas,” she warned.

“Fine then,” Richard said. “Then you have to do something for me. Get on top.”

He rolled on to his back and Anne rode him. She roamed her hands across his chest; she moaned as he grabbed her butt. A moment later, however, Richard found her moaning became different.

It was no longer a response from pleasure. Rather, it was like she was in pain.

Before he could ask her, she got off him and ran to the bathroom. It was followed by the sounds of vomiting and gagging.

Richard threw on his clothes and went to the bathroom to check on her. “Anne? What is it?”

She bent over the toilet and continued to throw up. After she was done, she rested her head against the toilet seat.

“You need a glass of water?”

Anne shook her head. “No…it wouldn’t help.”

And she started gagging again.

“What is it?” Richard was concerned.

“My…my stomach…it hurts…”

Richard watched as she vomited and flushed; vomited and flushed; and vomited and flushed. Finally, she seemed to be slightly better, he carried her back to bed and tucked her under the blanket. Then he found his phone and was about to call the hospital.

“No…no hospital…” Anne shook her head vehemently.

“Anne, you’re sick—“

“No, just stay here and hold me,” she said beseechingly.

So for the rest of the night, Richard held her, rubbed her stomach, stroked her back, and carried her to the bathroom when she needed to vomit again. Richard did offer over-the-counter medications, but she refused. She insisted Richard rub her stomach as if his hands were magical.

It went on until 3 AM in the morning.

After her stomach calmed down, Richard asked her why she fears to go to the hospital so much.

Her reply nearly threw him off the bed.

“Because there was no hospital in Middle Ages.”

“Wh…what?”

Despite her stomach troubles, Anne muttered on and on. “In…in…the Middle Ages…anything close…to a hospital was the church…where hospitality was provided…physicians…were servants…only employed by the riches…”

As she talked, Richard felt steams coming off his head.

But what Anne said next wiped all his anger and frustration away. “Doctors and medicines are useless compared to you. As long as you are with me, all my pain and illness go away.”

Hearing that, Richard kissed her on the temple and settled down next to her. Anne moved closer and the two spooned together.

It was not a good position for Richard that night. Each time her stomach hurt, Anne would bend her body with her butt moved against Richard’s stomach, waking him up.

Just as he was able to get any sleep, George called him down.

Before he left, he made sure to leave medications and a glass of water and a plastic bag on his nightstand.

***

The traffic was not that bad. The three arrived to the Philadelphia Airport with no problem, only pissed off to find that Cecily’s flight was further delayed until noon.

George rubbed his temple as Ed called his wife Liz; Richard slept in a chair.

“You need a sitter for today?” George asked Ed.

“Yeah, but I got that taken care off. Jane can help out.”

“Jane?”

“Jane Shore, she’s a social worker from the pediatric department at the hospital. She’s great with kids,” Ed said. “And FYI, she works at your place too.”

“Really?” George raised an eyebrow. “I never heard of a Jane Shore at the research institute.”

“Her full name is Elizabeth Jane Shore.”

“Oh her,” George now remembered. “I know her and I met her once. She is working on a research project on the parents’ extramarital affair and its psychological impact on children. Pretty redhead.” Then he changed the subject. “Why is Liz not available for the kids anymore?”

“She going back to school to get her BS and trying to become a BSN.”

“Why?”

“She got laid off again.”

“Why is she losing her job?” Richard asked; he woke up sometimes ago.

“Because that’s what happens if you are somewhere in the middle,” George explained. “Government has cut the reimbursement for hospitals and to save money, hospitals have to reduce its spending. So, the first thing they do is to fire the nurses. LPN used to be the lowest level of mid-level providers, but now they are moved one step higher because of the Medical Assistants and Nursing Assistants. LPNs are higher paid but only have a slightly wider scope of practice. So obviously, it makes sense for the hospital administrations to get rid of the LPNs and divide their duties among the nursing assistants and RNs.”

“Why not find jobs elsewhere?”

“Where? She can go to a physician’s office but they pay way lower than hospital. From my perspective, she made the right choice to go back to school. Nowadays, all clinicians are better off to work in administrations and research part-time on top of their clinical duties. Right Ed?”

“Right.” Ed nodded.

“Does Mom know about Liz’s career advancement plan?” Richard asked.

“No, and please don’t say a word,” Ed begged. “You know how she is.”

***

Hours later, Dr. Cecily York arrived. As her sons had anticipated, she dragged five gigantic suitcases behind her. Once she spotted her three boys, she spread out her arm. Usually, it was Ed she hugged first. Yet, on this very day, she broke her usual habit—she embraced Richard first.

“Dickon! My soon-to-be Pulitzer Prize-winning son!”

Richard tried to hide his embarrassment as hard as he could.

Taking Richard’s arm, Cecily sauntered proudly out of the airport with George and Ed handling her suitcases.

Once they got to George’s van, Cecily removed her sunglasses and remarked, “This is…interesting. George, when did you get this new van?”

“Weeks ago,” George replied.

“Why are you getting a van? You are a single man, not Mike Brady with his bunch.”

“Mom, in case if you forget, Isabel and I will get marry sooner or later. Plus, it’s a good offer from Liz’s brother Tony Woodville.”

“Car salesman!” Cecily snorted. “Are you sure this…thing runs well?”

“It runs very well Ma.” George said nothing more and climbed into the back seat.

Ed immediately sat in the middle row, despite it was disadvantageous for his size.

That left Richard being the driver with Cecily sat with him in the front.

***

On the way back to New York, Cecily talked all the way, mostly about Richard’s article.

“I can’t believe how pathetic human beings can be. This shows that humans and animals are really not much different from one another. If you were to place, let’s say a wolf, in a pig sty since babyhood and that wolf never left the sty. That wolf will grow up like a pig! Unless if that wolf was lucky enough to run out of the pig sty and return to the nature, which is a huge place, that wolf will remain a pig and doomed to be a pig! These people from Bedford, God help them, they never left that sad little town of theirs. They only know people as us and them…”

She went on and on with Richard pretended to listen.

“I feel so sorry for that Wednesday’s child,” she continued. “That poor girl will never get over it. The trauma is just too much for anyone to endure. Her unstable relationships are the least of the problems. People like her are damaged psychologically and physically. Even if she does get married, her life span will be short and I doubt she can bear children. Whoever ended up marrying her, all I can say is poor man doomed to be a widower.”

Richard was not happy to hear that at the very least.

***

It was a long ride, a very long ride.

“Remember we need to celebrate! Why don’t we all have a splendid dinner together? Me and my three boys! I called Meg but she can’t make it because of her condition. Your sister is having twins—she’s having a boy and a girl. Oh, and George please invite Isabel! Oh, never mind! You put together the guest list and I’ll treat!” Cecily kissed Richard on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you! Such a shame your grand uncle didn’t live to see this!”

Bidding his Mom goodbye, Richard headed back to his place.

He found Anne lying in the couch, holding her stomach.

“Are you okay? Still not going to the hospital?”

She smiled meekly. “I’m trying to clean your place up, but my stomach…it’s too much. It’s weird…it feels like a knife or something hard that stuck in my belly. Whenever I move, it pains me.”

“Anne, we need to go—“

“No!” Anne refused.

“Anne, can we act like modern day people for once?”

“I am acting like modern day people and you know how bad hospitals are in modern days. Long wait time and high co-pay. And it smells…” She closed her eyes and continued, “I think the pain will go away soon. Why don’t you go rest? I kept you up so long last night…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He sat on the couch and had Anne leaned against him.

“Today is Sunday…so that makes tomorrow Monday…”

“Just call in sick tomorrow,” Richard said as she rested her head on his lap.

“Can’t, at least I need to go pick up the exams to correct. The grades must be submitted.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“You sure?” Anne felt Richard had done too much for her. “By the way, Izzy called. She said there will be a housewarming party at her and George’s new place.”

Richard was a bit uneasy.

“Am I going to meet your Mom?”

“I guess, but Anne, listen to me: try not to talk to her.”

“Why? How bad can she be?”

“It’s not good for your mental health, I can give you that.”

“She can’t be worse than people in Bedford. After all, she’s your mother and how bad can she be?” Then she asked, “What does she do?”

“She’s a psychiatrist.”

Instantly Anne changed her tune. “I’ll stay away from her.”

Richard laughed at that.

Anne closed her eyes; she took Richard’s hand and held it against her cheek. For a moment, Richard could feel wetness on the back of his hand.

Is Anne crying?

Richard looked down but only found Anne held his hand firmly, refusing to let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little explanation regarding Liz Woodville's career issues: she's a LPN in US.
> 
> (This is to all the non-American readers):
> 
> LPN = Licensed Practical Nurse (This is Liz Woodville)  
> RN = Registered Nurse  
> BSN = Bachelor Degree Nurse (This is what Liz Woodville wants to be)  
> NP = Nurse Practitioner (requires Doctorate in Nursing - this is George York)
> 
> They are all called nurses but their scope of practice varies a lot and salary level differs too. A major frustration for George since his knowledge level is almost equivalent to Edward York.
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> Comments please!


	18. Monday You can Fall Apart

Anne’ stomach pain subdued a little on the next day, but it still bothered her from time to time. As Richard suggested, she had him drive her to work to pick up student’s paper and exams to grade at home; and then Richard took her to a nearby urgent care center to see what the problem was.

Turned out she got stomach flu.

The doctor advised her to drink lots of fluids, avoid solid food, and to get plenty of rest.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to George’s housewarming,” Richard said while driving her back. “Stay in bed tonight. I can stay with you.”

“No, I have to go,” Anne disagreed. “This means a lot to Isabel. Plus, my stomach doesn’t hurt that much anymore and I don’t feel nauseated. I’ll drink something there and chill.”

“You sure?”

“Of course,” Anne assured him. “If I don’t go, then Izzy will worry. She will call and ask. Had she know that I’ve been throwing up in the past few days, she’d take it as _something else_.”

By _something else_ , Richard had thought about it too.

He was quite relieved that it wasn’t.

Not that he never wanted a baby or start a family, it just wasn’t the right time for it to happen; at least not now.

***

Isabel and George spent the entire afternoon organizing their new apartment and preparing the food and refreshments. The housewarming party was supposed to be the upcoming weekend. However, after Cecily came, they moved the day to Monday because Cecily wanted to meet their friends.

Their new apartment was a two-bedroom apartment. One was the master bedroom while the other one was used as a guest room.

Cecily had not stopped making comments on the apartment’s decorations and furniture arrangements. For each remark, she’d link it to a person’s psychoanalysis. In other words, she was analyzing Isabel psychologically, directly and indirectly. Within seconds after Cecily stepped into their apartment, Isabel understood what George had meant.

But she loved George and thus made Cecily her potential mother-in-law.

Thank God that she lived in Chicago, miles away from New York.

And she also thanked God a million times that George was not Cecily’s favorite child, which meant she could have some space from her.

While George and Isabel busied themselves with housewarming preparations, Cecily sat in the couch with her laptop. Either she was working on a research paper or she was writing a new book. Whatever it was, she was completely absorbed into it.

Eyeing George, Isabel quietly slipped into another room and gently closed the door behind her.

“Isabel, what is it?” George asked, showing his concern. “You have to tell me.”

“I…I’m pregnant.”

“What?” George’s eyes nearly gouged out.

“I know this is crazy, but I am pregnant. I tested myself eight times and the results show positive.”

“Okay, let’s calm down—“

“I can’t!” Isabel shrieked in whisper. “My family is conservative and first-comes-carriage-and-then-comes-marriage is not acceptable!”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

Inhaling deeply, George pulled Isabel into his arms and whispered, “Izzy, I love you. I can tell you this over and over again and never get tired of it. You know why I bought that van from Tony? Because I really wanted us to drive our kids and our dog and cat and have the best family life there is. I want to marry you, Isabel. Will you marry me?”

With tears in her eyes, Isabel nodded. “Yes.”

The two held on to each other until the doorbell rang.

“But wait!” Isabel pulled George back. “The wedding! We need a wedding like…ASAP. I can’t be a bride with a gigantic belly!”

“It will happen.” George assured her. “Don’t you worry. Everything will be fine.”

The two went out and received their guests.

“Ma! Our friends are here,” George tried to remind Cecily as nice as possible.

“Oh,” Cecily put away her laptop and got out of the couch.

Friends and colleagues of George and Isabel came one by one. Soon they were joined by Ed, his two stepsons Tom and Rich, and his two daughters Bess and Cece. Liz couldn’t come because she got classes.

“Is Elizabeth going back to school?” Cecily asked. “Now?”

“Yes, Mom,” Ed answered as simply as he could.

“Mom going back to school and leaving children to Dad,” Cecily shook her head. “She should’ve finished school long before becoming a mother. Children growing up with an absent mother never develop well. I got my MD and BA in English before I had you, Ed. Ah, and look at my children. You, Ed, a cardiologist; George a nurse practitioner; Meg, a pediatric oncologist; and Richard, soon-to-be Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. Ed, you should talk to Liz to change her class schedules before her sons ended up in reformatory school and your daughters ended up stay-at-home moms.”

Ed tried to keep his smile. He was relieved that his kids ran off to play somewhere else and did not hear a word she said.

By the time Richard and Anne arrived, the party already went on for two hours. Anne hugged Isabel and greeted her friends. Her stomach was still hurting somewhat, so she went to rest on the couch. Richard went after her and adjusted the pillows for her. He sat with her and chatted, asking if she needed anything. That caught Cecily’s eyes.

“George, that girl Dickon is with…who is she?”

“That’s Izzy’s sister, Anne.”

“Is she seeing Dickon?”

“Ma, I am not Dickon’s keeper. Why don’t you ask Dickon?” With that said, he turned away to talk to other people.

Cecily walked to the couch where Anne was resting and gave her a smile. “Hi, I’m Dr. Cecily York, Richard’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you,” Anne shook her hand. “I’m Anne, Isabel’s sister.”

“Oh Dickon, would you mind go fetch me a glass of wine?”

“Sure Mom,” Richard was a little uneasy to leave Anne with Cecily.

“Go,” Anne said to him. _I’d be fine, don’t worry_.

Hearing that, Richard left.

“So Anne, I saw Dickon showering you with care and attention, so unlike of him. Now, my Dickon has inherited good looks of my late husband Dr. Richard York, a renown card—“

“He is only being nice,” Anne answered her question before Cecily could ask. “There is nothing between him and I.”

“I beg to differ,” Cecily’s tone turned colder and more serious. “I know my sons and when they are in love, I know it.”

“He may be in love but it does not mean that I am with him,” Anne said.

“Aren’t you?” Cecily raised an eyebrow. “You are with him when you arrived. He’s by your side and taking care of you and you do not reject his care.”

“What do you know?” Anne snorted.

“Don’t question me, I’m a doctor,” Cecily reminded her with her finger pointed.

“Even so, you haven’t been with me longer than five minutes. In other words, whatever analysis you got out of this observations and/or conversation is bogus.” Anne got up and said, “Now excuse me, there are other brilliant people to talk to in this apartment.”

She rose and walked away, leaving Cecily fuming.

“Mom,” Richard came to her with a glass of champagne. “Your—“

“Dickon!” Cecily got up and pulled him aside. “The _Wednesday’s Child_ , it’s her, isn’t it?”

Richard did not want to say. His silence confirmed Cecily’s suspicion. She was a psychiatrist after all.

Cecily pulled Richard into the guest room and closed the door behind her. “Richard, you are a grown man and you make your own decisions. But I must say one thing: that article you wrote on Bedford’s scandal stands out from anything you wrote before. Do you know why?”

“Bill already told me that the article is different—“

“No,” Cecily stopped him before he could continue. “I am a psychiatrist, but on top of that, I am a mother and a woman. When I read that article, I saw labor of love. You didn’t write that article for your job or for your career advancement; you did it for her. You know the quote ‘behind every great man stands a woman’—it does not mean that all great men’s achievement are credited to women, but that a man changes for the better when he learns how to love a woman.”

“You didn’t tell Anne, did you?” Richard asked hesitantly.

“I don’t need to, she already knows.”

“What?”

“Richard,” Cecily addressed him like an adult for the first time. “You need to talk to her and come clean with your feelings. Look at George and Isabel, they may be imperfect but they are very honest and clear to each other with their feelings. Now, I don’t know what love games you and Anne played with each other, but it has to stop. She loves you, and you need to help her see that.”

“She…honestly I don’t know who she loves…” Richard let out a sigh and sat. That had bothered him for some times now.

“Why, is there another man?”

“Sort of.”

“Is he at this party?”

“No.”

“What is his name?”

“Richard.”

“Interesting,” Cecily laughed. “Where is he now?”

“In a research lab in England.”

Cecily rolled her eyes. “Why should you make a big deal of an English lab technician who is not even here? Tell her and show her that you are the _Richard_ who loves her and whom she loves. Get up, go talk to her before she becomes the one who got away.”

Richard stood and hugged his mother gratefully. “Thanks Mom.”

***

The moment he stepped out from the guest room, he heard the sound of glass clinking. _Is someone making a toast_?

Richard had assumed it was Isabel or George, but turned out it was Anne.

“I like to say how happy I am to see Isabel and George are moving in together in this nice, wonderful place. It is not the apartment itself that makes it wonderful, but the love between the two of them. My sister is the luckiest woman on earth to find her other half. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone raised their glass.

“Thank you Anne. Now Isabel and I have an announcement to make,” George started. “We’re getting married.”

Everyone cheered for that and applauded. Ed went to congratulate George and shook his hand and hugged Isabel; Richard did the same.

“Izzy,” Anne gave her sister a hug. “I can’t believe you are marrying George. When’s your big day?”

“I don’t know yet. But you are going to be there as my maid of honor. And I want you to be around to help me with my wedding—“

“That’s not going to happen,” Anne said.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m moving to England,” Anne replied.

“What?” Isabel, George, and Richard asked in unison.

“I quit my job at Middleham University and got a job interview at University of Leicester,” Anne told them and shrugged her shoulder. “I’m flying to England next month.”

“Annie, why are you doing this?” Isabel asked.

“Because things are not working out at Middleham University,” Anne explained. “The Department is not supportive of my research project; my career has a better future at Leicester.”

“But you don’t even know anyone at Leicester!”   

“I do know someone.”

“Is it a guy or a girl? Do you have his email? Phone number?” George asked.

“It’s a he…but he does not have email or a phone.”

“How well do you know him?” Ed asked.

“Very well actually,” Anne said. “We are spiritually connected.”

Hearing that, Richard nearly lost his balance.

“Wait Anne—“ Before he could continue, he was interrupted by a loud yelp and a thump.

It was Cecily; she slipped and fell.

***

Isabel, George, and Ed were at the ER waiting room with Ed’s kids.

At age 60, Cecily did not have strong bones to endure such a fall.

George called ambulance and Cecily was placed on a stretcher and sent to the nearby hospital’s ER. Richard offered to go with her as well, but Cecily insisted that he should go after Anne.

“Don’t lose her,” she told him.

Rubbing his head, Ed went to the kids and asked, “Who spilled hand soap on the floor?”

Instantly, all Tom, Rich, and Bess pointed finger at Cece.

“No it’s not me!”

“Yes it is you!” Tom said. “You’re the one who said ‘I’m cleaning the floor for Uncle George!’”

“Why did you do that?” Ed questioned his younger daughter.

“Tom’s shoes are dirty and he makes Uncle George’s floor dirty. I was doing a good thing,” Cece defended herself.

Cece was not an easy kid for sure. Soon Ed found himself backed into a wall.

“Are we having a problem here?” A gentle voice said behind him. Ed turned and saw it was Jane Shore.

“Hi Jane,” Ed greeted her a little nervously.

Jane smiled and sat. She talked to Ed, and then turned her attention to Cece. She was good with kids, especially difficult ones.

After she was done with Cece, she asked if Ed want to go grab a cup of coffee at the hospital’s café, to which Ed agreed. They left the kids to George and Isabel’s care and went to the café together. The two drank and talked.

“Ed, about our…thing together, I’m not so sure if I want to continue this,” Jane muttered.

“I like you Jane,” Ed admitted.

“But you are a married with kids,” Jane said. “I want family, Ed. I want to come home to a husband who loves me, only me. Exactly what is it you don’t find satisfying with your wife that you have to come to me?”

“Liz is…a bit too much at times,” Ed told her. “Her family’s business is failing and kept on asking me to provide financial support. They are using me and my family for their advantage. Like how Tony went behind my back to talk to George, offering him a deal with that van…I’m sure George is happy with the van but it should’ve been George who approached him rather than Tony going to George with that offer. ‘Oh George, your car is way too small for your relationship. If you want the relationship to last, you need a bigger car.’ And viola, he made business with George. Liz needs to tell her family to stop.”

“And she isn’t?”

“No,” Ed shook his head. “Her first husband was a deadbeat and I guess her family sees me as a goldmine. If I say no to her family, I’ll never hear the end of it from her.”

Before Jane could say a word, Ed became still.

Jane turned around and found Liz Woodville York standing before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this chapter is funny or rather messy.
> 
> Comments please!
> 
> Cheers!


	19. Tuesday Break My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's the anniversary of Anne Neville's death. Unfortunately, the scene that'd be perfect for today will not be posted today.
> 
> But I hope her soul is happily united with Richard III's.

Ed, with his hair uncombed and clothes unchanged, walked to Richard’s apartment complex and ringed for him to buzz him in. It was Tuesday late afternoon and he assumed Richard had got back from his office. He pushed his number five times in a row and finally he was buzzed in.

Rubbing his eyes, Ed had not slept well last night at all.

He clumsily climbed the stairs and went to Richard’s apartment.

Behind the door, he heard the sound of vacuuming.

That was so unlike of him.

Housecleaning in the afternoon on a weekday?

Ed knocked on the door, hard.

No response.

It was not until after he pounded the door ten times did the door finally opened.

To his surprise, it was not Richard who answered the door; it was Anne.

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple tee with a bandana on her head and gloves on her hands, she turned off the vacuum cleaner and greeted him, “Hi Ed.”

“Anne?” Ed could not be more bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m housecleaning for Richard,” she explained.

Statement of Captain Obvious. “Okay, can I come in?”

“Sure, help yourself.”

Ed walked in and looked around. The kitchen was clean; the floor was mopped; the living room was in order; and laundry was in the washer. He saw two large laundry baskets full of linens and sheets.

“What is this?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Oh, I am washing his sheets, curtains, and all the linens in the house,” Anne said. “Your brother has not washed them for ages.”

“I guess,” Ed said and sat.

“What’s new with you?” Anne asked. “You don’t look so good.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Anne poured herself a cup of tea and sat with him.

Taking a deep breath, Ed told her about last night.

***

Last night was a total disaster.

After Cecily slipped and fell, George, Ed, and Isabel took her to the nearby hospital’s ER; and they took Ed’s and Liz’s kids with them. Richard and Anne did not go with them, under Cecily’s advice. They went back to their place and called it a day. Anne slept well, but Richard didn’t. But that was another story.

At the hospital, Jane Shore appeared and invited Ed to have a cup of coffee at the hospital’s café. There, they discussed about the complexity of their relationships. Ed was married to Liz Woodville and they have two daughters together; Liz’s two sons from her previous marriage also lived with them. At the same time, however, Ed was having an affair with Jane. Liz was an ambitious woman; Ed loved her but found her overbearing at times. Jane, in comparison, was gentle and a good listener. In other words, Liz was the main dish that was too spicy at times; and Jane was the sweet desert.

But Jane had her own pride; she was not any man’s mistress in the long run. Like any woman, she desired a family. Thus, she told Ed that she like to end this liaison they were having. Ed, in turn, explained the difficulties of his marriage. Just then, Liz appeared before them.

In anger, she sprint to Jane and grabbed her by the hair. Blonde Elizabeth Woodville and redheaded Jane Shore got into a fierce catfight. The café clerk called the hospital security.

Hearing the shrieks and screams, George went to see what went on.

He was shocked to see Jane and Liz fought each other to death. Immediately, he ran back to Isabel and instructed her to watch the kids and not to let them wonder away. But hearing their mother yelling, the four kids ran to find their mom. George tried to run after them, but they were too quick. By the time the hospital security guards finally separated the two women, Liz found the four children looking at her.

George’s heart sank.

And Ed was nowhere in sight.

***

“You ran away?” Anne asked in laughter.

“Yeah,” Ed murmured. “I’m not proud of it. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Where did you go?”

“I checked into a hotel nearby and spent the night there,” Ed shook his head. “I can’t go home. I’m ashamed to face my family. I thought about going to George’s place but Mom is there; you met her. So, I thought maybe I can settle here first and then figure something out.”

“Eh, there’s a little problem,” Anne bit her nail. “Unless Richard has a sleepbag, or if you do, you have nowhere to sleep.”

“I can sleep on the couch just fine,” Ed assured her. “Believe me, my size is not—“

“Richard is sleeping on the couch,” Anne told him.

“Then who’s sleeping in his bed?” Ed asked, finding it strange.

“I am.”

“Excuse me?” Ed’s eyes narrowed. “You live here?”

“For the time being, yes,” Anne nodded. “As his housekeeper.” She added.

“Let me get this straight, you are staying here as his housekeeper and you sleep in the bedroom. And Richard is your supervisor and he’s sleeping in the living room’s couch?”

“Richard is not my supervisor.”

“He’s not?”

“Oh no, I volunteered to be his housekeeper,” Anne explained. “Don’t tell George and Isabel or your mom, but I got evicted from my apartment. So, I have nowhere else to go. Richard took me in. In exchange of boarding, I clean his apartment for him.”

“How did you get evicted?”

“I burned the apartment manager’s penis.”

Ed did not want to ask anymore. The more he asked, the stranger it became.

_What a weird world!_

“Okay, Anne. Thank you for listening,” Ed got up to leave. “I wish you best of luck. And—“

He stopped as he spotted a huge strapped suitcase in the corner.

“Is that yours?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Anne nodded. “Don’t tell anyone, but my trip to England is actually today.”

“What? You are flying to England today? When?” Ed’s eyes nearly gouged out.

“This evening at eight,” she replied.

“Does Isabel know?”

“Not yet, I’ll call her when I get to London.”

“I thought you are heading to Leicester.”

“Oh, from London I will take a train to Leicester.”

***

When Ed got to George’s place, he found a very stern Cecily facing him while sitting in a wheelchair.

In the living room sat George, Isabel, and Richard.

“Edward, you’re here as well,” she said coldly. “Sit down and I like to have a word with you, all of you.”

Wordlessly, Ed sat.

“When your father and I got married, we vowed to love and honor each other—rich or poor, sick or health,” she lectured. “We waited until we were both ready. By the time I was pregnant with you, we had our degrees, our jobs, and our medical licenses. We bought a house, and we promised to provide the best home for our children. And we have four children: Ed, George, Meg, and Richard. Except for my daughter, my sons…oh dear…I am only relieved that your father did not live to see this.”

She turned to George and Isabel. “You two, first comes baby and then comes marriage. Who do you think we are? Reality TV stars? Isabel, have you told your parents yet?”

“No,” Isabel replied in a whisper.

“Mom, please! You are making Izzy feel uncomfortable here,” George defended Isabel protectively. “The child she is carrying is mine and thus your grandchild. We did nothing wrong. I love Isabel and she loves me. We are getting married even if it weren’t for the child.”

“And when is the wedding?” Cecily questioned. “What is your plan? Before or after the child is born?”

“We are getting married this upcoming weekend,” George replied firmly.

“George!” Isabel was surprised to hear that.

“Yes, we are,” George said insistently. “We are going to have a small, private ceremony this weekend. And then we are going celebrate our honeymoon in the Caribbean.”

“And Isabel’s parents? Have to talk to them yet?”

“I haven’t but I will.”

Isabel seemed to be very uneasy upon hearing that.

“Is there something you like to say Isabel?”

She turned to George and held his hand. “My Dad…he doesn’t like you and already told me that he does not approve.”

“What?” George was not anticipating that. “Don’t tell me your Dad are saying nay to this because—“

_I’m a nurse._

“Exactly what does your father found unsatisfying about my George?” Cecily asked Isabel. “He is responsible; he is caring; and he has two doctorates. He is a brilliant man with a big heart.”

For the first time ever, Cecily said something positive about George.

“Have your parents fly to New York this weekend and I will have a talk with them,” Cecily continued. “Your wedding will be my treat.”

“Thank you, Cecily,” Isabel said.

“Please, call me Cis.” Cecily smiled at her and then turned her attention to Ed. “Edward, you should be ashamed of yourself!”

“Mom—“

“Don’t ‘mom’ me!” Cecily rebuked. “Extramarital affairs! What is in your head?”

“Liz is—“

“You are the one who married her!” Cecily reminded him harshly. “When you first introduced her to me, I know she’s no good to you. But no, you refused to listen to me. You married her and now you have two girls together. Whether you like it or not, you have made your choice. You chose her and thus you should stay with her and be true to your vows! You think marriage was easy for your father and me? We had argued and we fought! Whatever we found dissatisfied with each other, we talked about it! We communicate! Have you talked to Liz about your problem with her?”

“I tried.” Ed replied.

“Then try again!” Cecily continued her lecture. “Running away from marital problems is never the answer. And where were you when Liz had a fight with what’s-her-face?”

“Jane,” Ed said. “I freaked out and I bailed.”

Cecily hid her face in her palm. “Ed, go home and talk to Liz. You have two kids together and none of my grandchildren is allowed to live in such an atmosphere. Either you work things out or get a divorce. But you have to face it. Hiding in a hotel or at your brother’s house is not acceptable. Now go!”

Hearing that, Ed rose but then stopped to say something to Richard.

“Yes Ed?”

“She asked me not to tell you, but she’s leaving US tonight,” Ed told Richard.

“Who?”

“Anne, your new housekeeper,” Ed told him.

“Dickon, you hired a housekeeper?” Cecily raised an eyebrow.

“No, Mom,” Richard brushed her off and then turned his attention back to Ed. “You went to my place?”

“Yeah, and Anne was there vacuuming the floor and washing all your linens and sheets.”

“Are you sure she’s leaving tonight?”

“Of course, her luggage is ready; and she told me her flight is at eight.”

“Oh man,” Richard got up and said to George, “I got to go. See you this weekend!”

“Just one question,” Ed placed his hand on his shoulder before he could go. “Why is your housekeeper sleeping in your bedroom while you’re sleeping on the couch?”

“Who cares!” Richard pushed Ed away and bolted out of the apartment.

After he was gone, Isabel asked, “Why is he making a big deal about his housekeeper?”

“Because his housekeeper is your sister,” Ed replied.

“Since when Anne became Richard’s housekeeper?” George asked.

There was a moment of silence until Isabel suddenly jumped up. “ANNIE IS LEAVING US TONIGHT!”

Before she could react any further, George held her down. “Relax, Richard got her.”

***

Richard ran back to his apartment, two steps at the time. When he got there, he shouted for Anne. She was nowhere in sight.

He checked his time; it was almost six.

Her flight was at eight, which meant she should be at the airport already.

She must be at the JFK Airport since she is flying oversea.

Richard jumped into his car and drove to the train station.

Yes, train beats the traffic.

Seconds seemed like years to him.

After he got out of the train station, he jumped into the first cab he saw, brushing away an 80 year-old woman. “JFK Airport, now!”

He threw the driver a $50 bill.

“Which airline? Arrival or departure?”

“I…I don’t know…she’s leaving for England so…British Airway I guess…Go!”

By the time he arrived the airport, the sky was dark and cloudy; a thunderstorm was coming.

Richard could’ve cared less about the weather. All he knew was that Anne was leaving him.

Without a word of goodbye.

How could she?

Richard was fuming; but for what? For her being inconsiderate? Or for her not knowing that _he_ was the Richard she loves?

She, Anne Neville, loves Richard York, not Richard III of England.

Finally, he spotted her.

There she was, with a huge suitcase, standing by the gate. She had not even entered the airport yet.

Her flight was supposed to be at eight; it was almost seven.

Richard cared nothing about that. He flew to her side and grabbed her by the arm.

Startled, she turned. “Richard? What are you doing here?”

Holding her arm firmly, he dragged her away from the airport and waved for a taxi.

“No!” Anne tried to shake him away. “My flight is at eight and I’m already behind.”

“You can’t leave like this!” Richard refused to let her go. “You are not leaving. You’re staying here.”

“I have to,” Anne insisted. “My future—my career—lies in England.”

“No, your future is here! With _me_!”

“Richard, I have dreamed and waited for this day for so long!” Anne tried to pull away. “I know that he’s not the monster that Shakespeare portrayed. And I also know he’s not a loser like that annoying fake historian author described. He was a great man, an honorable man who loves his wife; and his wife loves him. The image of their marriage has been marred for centuries. Now, they finally found his body; and the record of his marital life is authenticated. I need to go there to see his reburial and complete my pet project.”

“What is your pet project?” Richard asked, still holding her arm.

“Let the world knows the true love between him and his wife.”

“You can’t.”

“Yes, I can!”

“I say you can’t.”

“Why? Why can’t I?”

“Because there is no such a record exist!” Richard shouted.

“You lie!” Anne refused to believe. “Didn’t you just write an article on its authentication? The one which you will garner the next Pfizer Prize?”

“First, it’s Pulitzer Prize,” Richard corrected her. “Second, the article I did is not on the record of the dead King’s sex life!”

“Then what is it on?”

“It doesn’t matter!” He gripped her arm even harder. “I lied to you! There is no such a thing as record of Richard III’s sex life!”

“What are you saying?” Anne’s eyes widened. “All these times you showed me—“

“It has nothing to do with that Richard III and his wife. It’s me loving you; and it’s you who fall in love with me!”

Anne was stunned.

“I don’t know what went on between Richard III and his wife. But I do know one thing: I am in love with you. I don’t care what faults you have or what others think of you! I just know that I love you! And you are in love with me! The Richard you longed for is _me_!”

Thunder cracked and followed by lightning. Soon, it started raining.

And it rained harder and harder.

The rain poured all over Richard and Anne as they stared at each other.

“How…how could you do this?” Anne’s lips quivered. “Why?”

“Because you’d run away from me!” Richard shouted. “Every Wednesday…is a day I feared for…because you’d leave me on that day and disappear from the face of the earth.”

Anne stopped struggling against him upon hearing that.

“I have to divert your attention, so that you’d stay by my side. I don’t want you to disappear, because it drives me mad! Because I’m in love with you! Love drives people crazy. Do you know how much I hate role play? I want you to stay, even if it makes me look like an idiot!”

Sharply Anne slapped him across the face, with raindrops splashed away.

“So you lied to me!” Her face was wet too, from a mixture of rain and tears. “It is you who made a fool out of me! I…I really thought…”

“Why do you care so much about his sex life?” Richard questioned. “You are a historian! Not a tabloid reporter! You want to restore his image? How about publishing a book telling the whole damn world how he governed Northern England? Or how he had the laws printed in English so that commoners can understand them? Or how he openly cried at his Queen’s funeral? As for the relationship between him and his wife, they had a joint coronation, didn’t they? Did he file for a divorce after the death of their son? She died from illness and he had her buried as queen. They had a marriage lasted more than ten years until death do them apart! What else is there to argue about? Who cares what they do in bed?”

Anne said nothing; she just stared at him.

“And exactly what did you expect him to do in bed with his wife that makes him different? Does he have an extra testicle? Was he gay or bi? Franklin Roosevelt was a womanizer, but that did not make him a less great President! He still brought US through the Great Depression and defeated Nazis!”

He approached her closer and pulled her against him.

“You, Anne Neville, fell in love with _me_ , Richard York. And I love you! I don’t care about your past and what you’ve done. I love you for who you are.”

“My past…what do you know about my past…” She muttered, shaking her head and turning away.

“So your past is not sweet,” Richard said, calmed down a bit. “Neither is mine. No one has a perfect life, but past is the past. Look at George, when we were kids Ed drove us out every weekend. Ed wanted to go to Six Flags; I wanted to go to Seaworld; and George wanted to go to the zoo. Ed was the driver and I was the youngest. We went to Six Flags and the Seaworld. By the time when we finally went to the zoo to make George happy, it was closed down. It hurt George for a long time. But did George disappear from the earth each time we went out as a family? No. In fact, he has no problem taking Ed’s girls to Six Flags or to the Seaworld. He moved on from the past.”

He paused and then continued, “And let me tell you what’s going on now: Isabel is having a baby; Mom is in a wheelchair; Ed is having marital crisis. But they don’t run away from their problems because they can’t. You can’t run away from your problems. You have to face it and move on. Isabel and George are getting married this weekend; and Ed is going home to work things out with Liz. And here I am, asking you, _begging_ you, not to go. Stay.”

He took her hand.

A moment later, her fingers intertwined with his.

Sighed in relief, Richard used his freehand to grab her luggage.

Only surprisingly found it incredibly light, as if it was empty.

He turned and saw Anne smirking.

“I was cleaning your rooms on Sunday after you went to pick up your mom from the airport, and I found the book. It was given me by Edward Lancaster,” her voice shook when she spoke his name. “Then it came to me. I looked up _New York Times_ and read your article. I cried for a long time. I hated your for what you have done, but I appreciated it as well. For the first time, I realized…that all this time, I was running away from the past. It was so traumatic…that I felt its shadow is following me, haunting me. But you saved me. A couple of times it came to me that I was with you on a Wednesday, but when I asked, you told me it was Thursday. So…I let it go but relived the fear for another week. Anyway, my worst fear is that you did all this for your career advancement. I believed that you do love me, truly. After all you did for me, you have to be. But I want to hear it from you.”

She sniffed and added, “Come think of it, it’s all your fault. Had you told me that it’s Wednesday the nights we were together, I would’ve realized it long ago.”

The rain subdued.

“Anne…” Richard was stuttering. “You wench.”

He pulled her into a kiss.

The two kissed as the rain dripped from their hair and skin.

Anne stroked his cheek. “Did I hit you too hard?”

Richard kissed her fingers. “You’ll get your punishment when we get back.”

***

They skipped the shower.

And the drying.

He pulled her into his bedroom. He peeled her wet clothes piece by piece as she did his.

As he was about to remove her turquoise necklace, she stopped him.

He went to his dresser and fished out his white strap; he threw it to her.

She took the white strap and wrapped it around her body.

He picked up the end of the strap and spun her into his arms.

His lips touched hers and his grabbed her hands, holding them together.

With the white strap, he tied her hands together.

Then he went to the bed, and pulled her towards him.

Tied her to his bed, he began to punish her.

He teased her all over the body. His fingers pressed her locket against her heart.

In the end, Anne snuggled against Richard, with the white strap covering their bodies.

Lying in his arms, Anne took his hands and kissed them tenderly.

Those hands—they had caressed every part of her body; held her when she felt low; made her feel safe; rubbed her belly when she was in pain; and freed her from her past.

He loved her.

Just like Richard of Gloucester loved Lady Anne of Warwick. Whatever his motivation was—political advantage or financial gain—after all the troubles he went through to marry her and all these years they spent together, love was created somewhere down the road, if it wasn’t there in the beginning.

Richard was sound asleep, but Anne wasn’t.

Snuggling against him, she couldn’t help but wondered what could happen tomorrow.

It’d be the first Wednesday since they confessed their love for each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned for this scene for a long time, and I tried different ideas.
> 
> Then I was listening to this song called "Reign O'er Me", sang by Aneurin Barnard for the film "Hunky Dory". 
> 
> Then bang, I got it!
> 
> I have to say, if you listen to all the tracks sang by Aneurin Barnard, you'd find him a brilliant singer with a very wide range.
> 
> Comments please!


	20. Wednesday I'm in Love

Anne woke up in Richard’s embrace. He was still asleep, but his arms were firmly around her. They were in a spooning position.

She stroked his fingers and felt the cold metal from his class ring. Small things on men are the key elements to understand them.

She smiled while reminiscing all the intimate moments they had together last night as Anne Neville and Richard York. Role play was gone, but it was not any less pleasurable.

Anne looked down from the bed and saw the long white strap on the floor. Yes, the one that Richard used to tie her to his bed to punish her. She smirked and leaned forward to reach it. But, the moment she moved, she felt his arms around her tightened.

Nice try, but whatever Anne wants, whatever Anne gets.

After a few attempts, her fingers finally reached to the floor and picked up the strap. Richard turned to lie on his back; his grip on her loosened.

Anne lifted the cover and used the strap to tie her ankle to his.

Two could play this game.

He tied her to his bed last night, and thus she was tying him to herself this morning.

Sweet revenge.

Anne lied down next to him. She gently placed his hand against her stomach and enjoyed the warmth from his palm.

“You like me rubbing your tummy, don’t you?” Richard asked. He woke up a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, I do,” Anne turned and rubbed her calve against his. “I love it when your skin touches mine.”

Richard kissed her on the forehead. “My little girl.”

That was his new nickname for her.

Stroking his chest and shoulder, Anne murmured, “I have to find a new place to stay and a new job.”

“New place? Stay here, with me.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“But I still need a job,” Anne said. “I don’t want to work at Middleham University anymore; it’s not going anywhere. And I don’t like their policies either. It’s a bit chaotic.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“Basically it’s split between two groups. One group is composed of individuals who don’t do shit; and the second group is composed of accountable individuals who are forced to pick up the pieces.”

“So, are you group 1 or 2?”

“Thank you for asking,” Anne snorted. “Seriously, what do you think?”

Richard laughed gently. “What do you want to do then?”

After some deliberate thinking, Anne tilted her head and replied, “You know, Ed dropped by yesterday and talked to me about the problems he’s having with his marriage and extramarital affairs. I listened and I find that I like to listen to people talk to me about their problems. So, I’m debating on if I should go back to school and become a social worker.”

Richard nodded. “Go for it.”

“You mean it?”

“Thanks for asking,” Richard teased, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

He sounded a little exhausted and lack of energy.

“Are you okay?” Anne asked, touching his cheek.

“I’m fine, a little tired.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t take me so hard.”

“You’re worth it.”

Playing with his curls, Anne muttered, “I love you Richard York.”

She kissed him gently on the lips, then on the nose, and then on the forehead. Then she stopped. “Oh dear, Dickon you are burning.”

“Please don’t call me Dickon,” Richard pleaded. “My mom calls me that and it makes me want to poke my finger into my eye and twist all my brains out.”

He really meant it, literally.

Instantly, he felt an intense sickness in his stomach to the point that he needed to puke.

“Excuse me sweetheart,” Richard pushed himself up to get off the bed.

“Wait!” Anne tried to stop him to untie his ankle from hers. But Richard was not listening and in turn, he dragged Anne off the bed with him. Boy, his stomach must felt really bad to the point that he completely disregarded Anne’s condition. The two struggled, tripped, yelled, and finally got to the bathroom where Richard vomited in the toilet as Anne untied the strap from their ankles.

“You got stomach flu too?”

***

Richard did not only have stomach flu, he had a fever as well.

“You did this to me,” he said half-jokingly, referring to the stress she caused him yesterday and that they stood in the rain for so long.

“Shh,” Anne brought him Tylenols and a glass of water. She then wiped his forehead with wet cloth. “Rest, don’t talk.”

She leaned down and asked, “How’s your stomach?”

“Hurts.”

“Like a dagger got stuck inside?”

“Somewhat.”

“Here,” Anne slipped her hand under the cover and rubbed his stomach. “Does it help?”

“Somewhat,” he replied. “I better head to the hospital.”

“No!”

“Anne, I’m sick—“

“Do you know how many people die in hospital?” Anne questioned. “Hospital readmission rates are not low; mortality rates are high. You are staying here with me today.”

“Anne, I don’t need surgery; I just need to see a doctor and get prescription.”

“Fine then, who’s your doctor?”

“George.”

“He’s a nurse, not a doctor.”

“Anne, don’t argue. Do what I tell you. Take me to that urgent care center where you went last weekend.”

“Fine, but wait till your fever goes down.”

***

Anne went online to see what she could do for Richard at home to help him with his condition. The results were pretty much the same: rest, take temperature, avoid solid food, drink fluids, and over-the-counter medication to reduce fever. She went to check on Richard and found him asleep.

Then she noticed his phone on the nightstand. She tiptoed to the nightstand and turned his phone off.

No one should bother him at this moment.

She lied down next to him in case if he needed her. They had only come clean with their feelings yesterday, and they should’ve been doing a lot of things happily together today, enjoying their first day as a loving couple. But he had to be sick.

***

His fever finally went down a bit at 6:00 PM. Throughout the day, Anne rubbed his stomach; prepared chicken soup and fed him; and snuggled against him to keep him warm. She tried to hum a song, but got annoyed when Richard corrected her tone and pitch every five seconds. Recalling how he played Chopin, Anne guessed that he must have some talents in music. Oh great, it was like humming with Paul McCartney.

“Richard, you are okay to go now?” She whispered to him.

“Yeah.”

Anne helped him get dressed and assisted him to his car. She made sure he had his phone and wallet and drove him to the urgent care center.

Who could’ve guessed the wait time could be so horribly long?

Anne walked Richard to the registry window and explained his condition to the front desk register.

“Are you his wife or sister?”

“No.”

Then Richard muttered that he can sign the consent form so that Anne can stay by his side when they were called in.

Anne helped Richard settle in a chair in the waiting area. She looked around and found this urgent care center really needs some work and improvements. The magazines on the table were so outdated (front page coverage was on Kim Kardashian’s 72 day wedding); the TV doesn’t work; the lobby seemed a bit small for all the waiting patients and their families.

And there was no clock available.

Anne went into her purse to find her phone, but it wasn’t there. Maybe she left it back in the apartment. She went to Richard and used his. Turning his phone on, it rang a tune quite loud.

“Miss, please put your phone on silence!” The front desk register yelled. Boy, her voice was ten times louder than his phone.

“Sorry!” Anne mumbled and muted the phone. Looking at the time, it was 7:30 PM.

She went to the front desk and asked, “Look, we have been here since 6:30 and we have waited for more than an hour now. My boyfriend is really sick and you are not helping with his condition!”

“Miss, please sit down and wait until we call you! This is our policy.”

“What stupid policy,” Anne snorted.

“Hey! Us people have to follow us rules!”

“Okay, you don’t have to yell!”

“Whatever!”

Anne stumped her way back to Richard.

“Is there a problem here?” A man in a white lab coat walked out the clinic area and asked.

“Yes!” Anne told him firmly. “My boyfriend is very, very sick. You call yourself an urgent care center then act like one! And please tell your front desk lady to be nicer! Even the worst convict in NYC has better attitudes!”

“Okay.” He called out a medical assistant and escorted Richard to the back.

Anne followed them in and made a face to that front desk lady.

***

Unexpectedly, after settled in the exam room, it was followed by another long wait time.

The medical assistant took Richard’s temperature, blood pressure, weight and height.

That was it.

“The doctor will see you shortly.”

Yeah right, shortly.

Anne checked the time again and it was about 8:00 PM. When do they close?

“Anne, sit down and relax,” Richard murmured.

“Wait here, I’ll be back.”

Anne walked out of the exam room to see if there’s someone she could talk to. Medical assistants and doctors ran back and forth like headless chickens; whenever they bumped into each other, they argued as if no one is on the same page. She went into the front to see the clinic’s schedule; it clearly stated that it closes at 8:00 PM, Monday through Friday.

And Richard still had yet attended by any clinician?

So what, they are going to kick them out and say come back tomorrow?

Or is it just the last walk-in at eight?

Anne tried to find that nasty front desk lady, but she was gone.

Bathroom break? Or was she off?

Gosh, this clinic was so poorly managed!

“Haven’t seen a doc yet?” An older lady asked. “Don’t worry, they can’t refuse patients. As long as you are here before eight, you should be fine.”

Anne sighed in relief. She checked the phone again. It was 8:05.

Then a call was coming in; the caller did not have any identification.

No number.

Anne’s eyes narrowed. Initially, she thought it was some scam artist. Then she saw that Richard had at least ten unanswered calls; they called in every five seconds.

All said “no number”.

Then, he got a voicemail. A bit agitated, Anne listened.

In a low, menacing tone, the unknown caller left a threatening message, “This is Lorenzo, a carpenter from Bedford Massachusetts. You released an article saying that we stink. Are you sure you are not the one who’s stink? We’re going to kill you. Your corpse will be displayed with your buttocks public shown. We know where to find you.”

Anne trembled all over.

She looked at everyone in the waiting lobby.

“Honey, is something a matter?” That older lady asked.

Suddenly, the lights went out.

It was pitch black.

The power went out.

But there was no emergency light. What the heck?

Panicked, Anne turned on the phone to use the light. Only then realized the phone only had 10% of battery left.

“Richard!”

Anne tried to ran back into the clinic area, but only found the door locked. She banged the door.

“Let me in! Richard!”

The only access to Richard was the registry window. Without a hesitation, Anne slid it open and climbed over to the clinic area. She didn’t care that people in the front lobby calling her crazy; she didn’t care that she fell hard onto the ground; all she wanted to do was to be by his side and take him to safety.

Oh, which exam room he was in?

Anne ran to every exam room and looked inside, using the light from the phone. Either he was there or he wasn’t.

Finally, she found him.

“Richard! Richard, we have to go!”

“Anne…” He was still on the exam table.

“Richard, come on. We have to move! Let’s get out of here!”

With all her strength, she pulled him off the exam table and escorted him out the exam room. Using the light of his phone to guide them, Anne held on to Richard and walked him towards the door to the front lobby as fast as she could.

But no.

It was locked.

Apparently, the lock was an electronic one; since power was down, they were basically locked in.

Having no other choice, Anne saw the restroom and escorted Richard there. She shut the door and locked it. Then she tried to dial 911 but there was no service in the clinic area.

“Anne, what is it?” Richard asked weakly.

Before Anne could answer, she heard screaming and yelling from the hallway.

“Help! Help! Help! Somebody help!”

It was total chaos.

Anne ran to Richard’s side and held him protectively against her breasts. “It’s all right, don’t say anything,” she whispered.

“Anne, tell me.” He may be weak, but he still had his strong will.

Richard York, oh her Richard.

“Richard,” she whispered as tears fell from her eyes. “Don’t be scared, but people from Bedford…I think they are here…”

“What?”

“They are pissed at your article, you idiot! They are here to kill you! I tried to dial 911 but we don’t have service here!”

“What are you saying?”

“They have been harassing you with calls and left a message, saying that they are going to kill you and they know where to find you. I think they’re here.”

“Don’t be crazy, you know people at Bedford are the last ones who’d leave their town.”

“You’re so stupid! Do you know how crazy and extreme they are to protect their legacy and reputation? What if they hired a killer?”

Before Richard could say anything, they both heard shouting in the hallway. “Nobody move!”

Her hands shaking, Anne held on to Richard even tighter.

She leaned to his ear and whispered, “Don’t make a sound!”

Then the phone flashed again. It warned the user that the battery is dying out.

Only then Anne noted the time and date of the current situation.

Wednesday, after 8PM.

She looked at Richard and guilt consumed her.

She did it.

She stayed and allowed him to love her as Richard York.

And thus she had signed his death warrant.

She was Wednesday’s Child after all.

“Anne…are you okay?” He whispered to her.

“Shh…I’m fine!”

“No, you’re crying.”

“It’s all me…it’s all me…” Anne wept. “You wrote that article because of me…you are here because of me…and now, they are going to hurt you…all because of me…”

“What are you talking about? It has nothing to do with you.”

Anne buried her face into his hair. She couldn’t stop weeping.

“Anne, when time comes…just run. Don’t worry about me—“

“No!” Anne refused in a hoarse whisper. “I’m not leaving you. If they want a piece of you, they might just kill me as well. I can’t live this life without you.”

“Don’t be stupid!”

Anne’s arms around him became tight as ever. She held on to him as if he were her life.

_They are here, those people from Bedford._

_They are going to kill him…_

_And put his body on public display…_

_Oh God! Oh God!_

_Just like Battle of Bosworth…_

_No…not her Richard!_

The doorknob was turning. But it was locked, but that person on the other side continued to turn the doorknob.

Followed by the loud bangs.

Neither Anne nor Richard moved.

The loud bangs continued, then it stopped.

Anne felt relieved.

Then she smelled something.

Something was burning.

Was it smoke?

Dear God! They came here to kill him; but they couldn’t find him, so they decided to burn down this clinic!

“Richard…” She tearfully whispered against his curls. “If there is reincarnation, and if you run into me again, don’t—“

“I will still wait for you at that café,” He said softly and insistently without fear. His hand covered hers.

The door started banging again. Louder and louder.

Someone was banging the door down.

Without thinking, Anne grabbed the bottle next to her and planned to use it as a weapon to defend herself and Richard.

After five attempts, the door was beat down.

Anne screamed and aimed the bottle at the intruder.

“Ma’am!”

Anne blinked as flashlight came into her face. Standing before her were firefighters and police officers.

“Are you all right?”

Seeing them, Anne calmed down and relieved. “Richard…we are okay! We’re fine.”

She pulled herself up and held on to Richard.

“Officer,” she said to them. “These people, they’re trying to kill us—“

“It’s okay, come outside,” an officer told her.

Anne and Richard followed their instruction. Along with other patients, doctors, and staffs, they exited the building.

That bottle Anne attempted to use against the intruders was only a bottle of hand gel.

Seriously, what was she going to do with a bottle of hand gel?

***

Anne took Richard to the police station.

She was not going to allow people from Bedford to ruin her life as they did in the past. Moreover, she was not going to tolerate anyone to hurt the people she loves. She was not going to run away and hide. No, she was going to face them.

She told the cops about the harassing phone calls Richard received and the message that threatened to harm him.

“These people are horrible. They had spies and came all the way here to hurt him. They cut off the power source and tried to burn the clinic down with him inside. This is not tolerable in the eyes of law!”

The officer looked at her and said, “Ma’am, the people responsible for this incident are not from Massachusetts.”

“Then where’re they from?”

“They are college students who tried to steal drugs and needles from the clinic,” he told her. “They tried to cut the power off and run away, but it didn’t work out as planned. The fire was an accident.” He paused and asked, “So can you tell me about the threatening phone calls you received?”

Anne showed him Richard’s phone, which only have 5% of battery left.

“Listen to the phone message,” she said.

The officer frowned as he listened. He then looked at Richard and asked, “Do you have family in town? Someone whom you can stay with for the time being?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“You can call them from here,” the officer told him.

Richard used the phone and called Francis, his best friend.

“Francis, it’s Richard.”

“Oh there you are!” Francis exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m sick and I have people who tried to kill me.”

“What?”

“Those bastards from Bedford. They are pissed at my article and they threatened to kill me. It was a guy named Lorenzo—“

“Lorenzo? As Lorenzo a carpenter from Bedford Massachusetts?”

“Yes!”

“Geez Richard! That’s our prank call!”

“What?”

“Richard, we are supposed to go out tonight to celebrate your article,” Francis explained. “Remember? Your mother is treating? We were all there: your mom, Ed, George, Isabel, Rob, Kate, Bill. We were waiting for you. We tried to call you over and over again but you won’t answer. So, we decided to play a joke. We thought you’d freak out and call us. Where are you now?”

“At the police station!”

And he hung up.

His fever certainly went down after that.

***

They headed home for the night and felt too awkward to talk about what happened tonight.

No, they were not going to Francis’ place.

What a strange long day it had been!

Yet, suddenly Anne yelped.

“Richard! Richard! It’s past midnight! It’s Thursday!”

“Yeah? So?”

“We confessed our love to each other on Tuesday. And we spent entire day together on Wednesday. Now, it’s Thursday! And you’re alive! We are alive! I’m no longer Wednesday’s child! There is no curse! I’m free!”

She laughed and laughed.

And Richard laughed with her.

He pulled the car over and parked. He leaned over to kiss her.

A moment later, Anne leaned against Richard as the radio playing the song “Friday I’m in Love” by the Cure. Richard sang along as he brushed his lips against her forehead.

_Monday you can fall apart_

_Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart_

_Thursday doesn’t even start_

_It’s Friday I’m in love_

Enjoying the warmth from his body and staring at the stars in the sky, Anne smiled.

She and Richard, they have each other.

It didn’t matter what day of the week it was.

It’s every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the story has coming to an end. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story. The parallel between this fic and "One Thousand and One Night" are the follow:
> 
> In "One Thousand and One Night", the queen tried to stall her execution by telling the king a story each night and leaving a cliff hanger for 1001 night. In this fic, Richard tried to distract Anne from leaving him by showing her the love between Richard III and Lady Anne of Warwick - this went on for 11 night. 11 is 1001 taking off the 00.
> 
> After 1001 stories, the king fell in love with the queen and had 3 kids with her; he decided not to execute her. By the time Anne found out that Richard's demonstrations/role play was a fake, she was already in love with him. After getting a confession out of him, she stayed with him.
> 
> Aside from "1001 Nights", the demonstrations and role plays between Anne and Richard are inspired by the scenes from "Sunne in Splendour", "The White Queen" (not the one by PG), "Sir Gawain and the Green Night", "Tom Jones", and "The Perfumed Gardens".
> 
> My next two Anne x Richard stories inspired by fairy tales are in works. One of them will be posted as part of TWQ Big Bang - I will not reveal the plot or the fairy tale it's based on. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this fic. This is probably the smuttiest fic I ever wrote in my life!


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